Butterfly in Reverse
by bite the hand that feeds
Summary: Konoha's going to war, undermanned or not. [On serious hiatus please see author profile for details and apologies.]
1. 01

**Disclaimer**: Solidly avoiding ownership and time lines since 2002.

**Notes**: In terms of criticism, I'm worried Kakashi might be too extreme at either end of the hard-arse/compassionate spectrum, but I figure someone who's been a graduated ninja for like twenty years and ISN'T DEAD, has to have something more than dumb luck, when compared to kids like Haku, who was admittedly stronger than Kakashi, but died at his hand at a stupidly young age (regardless of experience/situation), so he may be deified a little (or a lot. read: fangirl). Also I'm using this to work on my ensemble writing. My dialogue (especially group) tends to suck, and writing more than two people and remembering what they're all supposed to be doing and making sure that's clear - well, not strong points.

**EDIT: 18/7/05**: Ok, so now that this has turned into an actual story I thought it best to update the notes! XD This started off as a couple of experiments to try and beat Writer's Block of Doom, and it worked, lol. The first chapter, compared to the rest of this, is pure crack. Eventually I may get around to re-writing it.

Thanks for everyone who's given this story a chance, and so kindly offered your support and criticism. Criticism of any kind is welcome – butI am trying to improve my writing, so tips and suggestions would be appreciated!

* * *

Sharingan Kakashi, according to the latest rumours on Konoha's gossip vine, was losing his touch.

The Hokage herself had delivered stern reprimands to the Copy Nin on no less than three occasions, and although the official denouncements seemed to be for tardiness, inappropriate reading material on duty, and "unnecessarily creative mind games" involving his three, now infamous, students and a ball of twine, the Hidden Leaf's general feeling was that this was a too predictable, and therefore obviously false cover up.

x

Lounging in the sun by the training grounds, however, the elite Jounin seemed perfectly unaware of the scandal involving his last successful mission - successful only in the sense that although he had come back more than a little worse for wear, his S-class target had not come back at all. Immersed in what appeared to be the same edition of _Icha Icha Paradise_ he had started several years ago, it took Kakashi many long moments to distinguish the change in focus of Naruto's yelling, Sasuke's brooding, and Sakura's worryingly contradicting Chakra patterns. It took a few moments more for Kakashi to actually bother to acknowledge the three.

"Kakashi-Sensei!" Sakura's squeals were reaching a dangerous pitch, reminding Kakashi nothing so much as of Tsunade reaching her more inventive methods of torture. "Have you listened to a word we've been saying?"

When no defensive grunt was forthcoming from the scowling Uchiha, the Copy Nin realised with a cold sort of dread that yes, all three of his Saanin trained, horribly repressed, borderline psychotic students were against him. After a calculating moment, the three young shinobi watched in a familiar tense sort of agony as their instructor calmly closed and pocketed his book, stretched out his legs and stood to attention before them. To a casual observer, that attentive stance would be better described as the Ultimate Slouch.

"Maa..." Kakashi slowly pushed his hands into his pockets, completing his 'professional look'. He nodded once, and his students immediately launched into rapid fire questions, probing and efficient. Kakashi listened absent mindedly as he mentally graded the three on their interrogation methods. Naruto seemed to be content using sheer volume and violent gesturing to intimidate his victim, and teamed with Sasuke's heated glare and carefully enunciated inserts, the Good-Cop-Bad-Cop routine they had stumbled across was startlingly effective. But the small beads of sweat dampening the back of Kakashi's cloth covered neck were inspired solely by Sakura's familiar tactics.

Standing close to her sensei - invading _the victim's personal space. Effective -_ with hands clenched on her hips, the pink haired shinobi's sickeningly sweet voice - _contrast between tone and manner putting victim off balance, nice._ - caressed the threats rolling from her tongue. The combination of tactical positioning and - _ooh, creative -_ questioning made Kakashi remember his own interrogation training. Of course, Konoha had been at open war then, much more actively than this residing pseudo-peace, and his training had been instigated on real missions in the field, but as a child he had used much the same method of intimidation.

Letting your enemy underestimate you before moving to dissect them had always been one of the Copy Nin's biggest strengths. Kakashi had used to pull his enemies down to eye level, nose to nose - or bury them in the earth when he'd finally learned that jutsu at the age of ten, and then casually lean down into their space - before 'politely suggesting' that they hand over any information that might aid the Leaf. Of course, the signature white, electric Chakra dancing on the young Hatake's fingertips may have been a _small_ stimulus to his victims' helpfulness. Even Ibiki had freaked out the first time he'd seen that ivory spark. Strange unknown Chakra, when totally controllable, had a funny way of getting people to open up.

Kakashi had loved the sense of power interrogation had allowed him, as a child he'd craved that sense of control since the _passing_ of his father. Now, however, having the Godaime's apprentice straining up to meet his exposed eye, he almost perhaps felt a vague smidgeon of guilt for all those times he'd 'practiced' on his superiors. No matter what the rank, having a kid literally scare the crap out of you had to hurt your pride - even if that kid was Yondaime's prodigal student.

As the heat of Sakura's glare plunged to sub-Arctic levels, Kakashi realised he'd drifted off again. Masking it with a scratch, the older nin lightly probed the fresh head wound he'd received on his last mission - _hilt of a sword, cracking solidly on the skull, but his own desperate kick at a too-skilled enemy sending the potentially lethal blow off centre, meaning he is able to turn his flailing descent into a somewhat sloppy roll - low crouch into a high round-house kick pulled back just before contact to harshly jab his opponent's stomach, winding him, providing breathing space to get the fuck up and get a weapon..._ - After several hours of healing meditation, but very little actual sleep, the concussion should've passed. Kakashi mentally shrugged. _Meh._

Seeing Kakashi's brief confusion, finished with an actual shrug, Sakura paused in the intimidation technique she had so recently mastered. Kakashi rarely displayed his thoughts or feelings to his team without there being some purpose behind it, Sakura had realised shortly after Team 7's reformation that everything was a lesson to the jounin unless stated otherwise. Actually - especially if stated otherwise.

Maybe he was wondering where she had learned such a technique? - they had not yet revisited interrogation in the team's training. Sakura had, in fact, been taught by none other than Morino Ibiki. She had sought him out after a casual suggestion from Jiraiya-Saanin during one of her lessons with the Godaime. She had been, while stitching a comatose shinobi's arm back together, complaining bitterly about Kakashi-Sensei's lateness, his perversion, and the rumours surrounding his injuries and recent conduct and capabilities. Jiraiya, lurking in the room, had scoffed at the rumours, merely replying that purest water could only be collected from the original spring. Tsunade-sama had preferred to change the subject, asking her young apprentice what she remembered of her Chuunin examiners - as that time of year was coming up again and she had yet to assign anyone to the tasks. Utilising Kakashi's life lessons flawlessly, Sakura remembered what she'd been told of the interrogation master, and rushed off, mid-stitch, to find the man, noticing neither the poorly suppressed grin on her mistress' youthful face nor the mumbled "underneath the underneath" from the amused pervert in the corner of the room.

While Ibiki had been grumpy and short of time, after explaining why she wanted to get answers from her sensei he enthusiastically taught her all she needed to know. With an almost lecherous grin, heightened fiercely by the multiple scars, Ibiki taught her a technique that was _Special_. According to Ibiki, it was _designed_ for the Copy Nin.

However, it seemed Kakashi had improved his resilience; he refocused on his students as suddenly as he had drifted off. Holding up a hand and narrowing a lazy eye, all three students froze expectantly.

"Cute, but Sakura wins. Naruto and Sasuke, nice play, but you need to work in better synchronicity. Sakura, don't give up so easily. Always ensure the attention of your prey." Kakashi strode several paces away from the three, leaving them to wonder when their impatience had been turned into a lesson, before freezing mid-step to gaze over his shoulder. "Like I said, Sakura wins. As a prize you may ask me three questions, which I will answer truthfully." - _Hook_...

"Really?" If Sakura's screech of joy was loud, imagine how loud she was _inside_. Kakashi fought a smirk on instinct before realising they wouldn't see it anyway. _Line.._

"Yes. Two left." _Sinker_.

x

Hatake Kakashi grinned at the look of shocked dismay on his students' faces, before sauntering somewhat affectedly away from the training ground, nodding a greeting to Nara Shikamaru as he passed.

"Heading for my three?"

Shikamaru had an excellent mind, and after a recent mission working with the Chuunin Kakashi had grown to like the kid. Shikamaru was modest, brilliant, and didn't expect to be babied. He was also fantastically unmotivated, until Kakashi had explained his idea in the form of a Shogi strategy.

"Yes, Hatake-Sama." Shogi, it seemed, was the black-haired boy's weakness.

"Go easy on them." The Copy Nin's small grin, however, was slightly too evil for Shikamaru to fully disguise the shiver running up his spine.

* * *

Immediately after his Sensei's departure, Naruto rounded on his team mate. "What are you gonna ask him?" A distinct look of awe crossed the blonde's face. "You could ask him _anything_." A grin, slightly malicious. "You could ask him what's beneath his mask."

"Yo!" Shikamaru's greeting was ignored by all but Sakura, who waved distractedly.

"He'd say 'a face.' and then he'd lead you on to another pointless question." Sasuke piped in with practised disdain. "You have to be careful; he's out to trick us."

"You think he's _always_ out to trick us." Scoffed the blonde shinobi, turning back to Sakura with an odd expression – more lustful than awe – fingers waggling in a strange imitation of his more perverse sensei. "You could ask why he _wears_ the mask."

Shikamaru raised his eyebrow in interest.

"He is. Always. It's his life's work." Sasuke's face twisted into a smirk as he contemplated Naruto's suggestion. "And no, it's not enough."

Naruto whipped his head round from where he was leering at Sakura and, seeing the manic look in the Uchiha's eyes grinned a little too manically himself. Naruto leaned against the tree Kakashi had so recently been backed against, and, as Sasuke continued, closed his eyes in bliss. Shikamaru's confusion grew.

"It has to be _really_ humiliating. We could get him back for every single _second_ he's left us waiting here..."

"Oh, yeah." Naruto sighed.

"Every single time he's let us walk into a trap, or a tree, or a dead end, or a brick wall, or a trigger-wire twine web, or a metaphor..."

"Sasuke..." Naruto's grin was evil. Sakura's feigned disinterest fell apart as she leant into her team-mate's words.

"Every single time he's denied us lessons, jutsus, ramen, knowledge, breakfast, rest, fucking bells, _actual training_..."

"Please... don't stop..." Naruto slid down to the base of the tree, leaning his head on Sasuke's leg as the boy ranted, eyes narrowed, hands flying wildly. Sakura knelt before him.

"He wouldn't teach us Chakra Meditation, and I know he can do it, I've seen him!" the pink haired girl intoned, her voice somewhat hollow, helpless, under the thrall of creative vengeance...

"He says we should learn, but buries his lessons in nonsense. He expects so much, but we don't know what. He expects brilliance, but we have no idea what he is capable of." Sasuke hissed, more frantic than Shikamaru had ever seen him outside of a battle field. "You have two questions left, Sakura. For the sake of the Team..."

Shikamaru stood in concerned amazement as Naruto held his breath, head resting in the crook of his rival's knee. As Sasuke, the silent, deadly, broody Uchiha ranted like a natural. As Sakura knelt, eyes wide and glistening slightly, muttering "all those times, all those times..." under her breath. Shikamaru's brows crinkled in confusion as he tried in vain to analyse the situation.

"Kai!" Ah, apparently, the three weren't under an enemy Genjutsu.

"For the sake of the Team, Sakura, choose your questions wisely." A stern look; a copied look. A look of intensity so completely belonging to Hatake Kakashi it was hindered only by the Uchiha's displayed jaw. Shikamaru thought that perhaps Kakashi would be pleased his team had finally learned to work together.

"Sakura," Naruto emerged briefly from his blissed-out state. "Take him down."

x

And, as he walked away from the broken shinobi, Nara Shikamaru decided he didn't want to know how Kakashi had finally driven his team completely insane. But Asuma-sensei probably would.


	2. 02

**Notes**: Chinese dramas often see strangers lives' intertwining, and that made me think about how loved ones can evade you – like that weird cut off feeling you get when you realise your parents had thirty years of life before you, that you have _nothing_ to do with. It's strange, and I wanted to show it, but when I got close it morphed. All in all, this was a fun experiment. I don't think I've ever written an actual battle sequence before, so I hope you all enjoy it, and suggestions are_ more_ than welcome. Tried to tighten up the ensemble writing, lets see? **_Kengeki_ **means swordplay, you'll get why I chose it.

I'm no longer only screwing with the Naruto timeline, but my own.

**Thanks to: **Everyone who read, reviewed, etc... bottom of the page!

((EDIT: thanks to **Fuhrer:** you know what's _really_ bad? I checked his last name before I wrote it, and STILL got it wrong! and you would would _so_ hear Gai's Random Capitalisation.))

* * *

The ancestors of Fire Country believed that when someone was talking about you, you sneezed. The ancestors of neighbouring countries held similar beliefs; Water Country for instance, believed that if you were being spoken about your ears would burn.

Kakashi considered himself a well travelled and open minded person, if not necessarily a superstitious one. Being one of the youngest shinobi in Konoha's history and therefore one of the longest serving; the only non Uchiha in possession of the Sharingan; the only child of the disgraced Konoha White Fang; the last remaining student of the Fourth Hokage and the teacher of the Uchiha Heir, the Kyuubi vessel; not to mention his carefully cultivated reputation as an eccentric pain in the arse, Kakashi was so used to people gossiping about his life that he very rarely noticed. To the Copy Nin, a sneeze did not instil any fear of slander in him, rather encouraged him to get out of wet clothing and dose up on hot lemon to fend of Death-By-Man-Cold. Likewise, a burning ear would make him find a cool, quiet place and take off his Hitae-Ate for a while, until the accompanying face-ache subsided.

Unfortunately, being on crazy solo missions to hunt and dispose of several crazy solo mercenaries made finding time to cool your throbbing, covered eye somewhat difficult. Especially when the tables had turned quite dramatically and the crazy bastards were no longer solo and had decided to start hunting _you_.

Kakashi was tired, hungry, out-numbered, and really, _really_ fed up. He raced through the trees silently, weaving in and out of Fire Country borders, occasionally creating clones to cross paths and confuse his trail, hoping that maybe his assailants - _targets, you idiot!_ - were stupid or tired enough to believe that a Dark Troop of the Hidden Leaf would make such rookie mistakes. That rested on them being unaware of who he was, or overconfident of their own abilities. He needed to combat them, to ascertain their abilities and come up with a way to actually take them down, but knew he was too tired to combat them all at once. His eye _hurt_. Risking wasting chakra on the Sharingan would _not_ be fun, and _Kage Bunshin_ to separate and isolate targets would probably be just as wasteful if his opponents had made an attack strategy. Considering how much energy he was wasting weaving through a forest he _knew like the back of his own fucking hand_, Kakashi guessed that they'd had time to chat.

There had been six names on his list of targets. In the last five days he'd located and killed two S-class criminals and incapacitated one elite A-Class missing nin, as ordered - albeit awkwardly, almost losing his eye in the process. The three criminals left should be low A-class affiliates to the now all but defeated Hidden Sound - two with extensive combat experience, originally from the Hidden Sand and Hidden Waterfall - and a third unknown shinobi with rookie brilliance. Kakashi had located them easily - the youngest with tawny hair similar to the birds he was petting - but was quickly discovered by hawk-like eyes... It had not been mentioned that the brilliant Rookie was an expert at tracking.

There were now four shinobi chasing him, and the Rookie's pet hawks - _Summons, has to be -_ maintained their close circling, ensuring no escape, despite any superior speed and skill. Kakashi needed flying dogs, but, not seeing _that_ happen any time soon, tracked down the Rookie before launching six shuriken skywards - intending to distract the birds - and quickly went through the hand seals of his Sensei's signature jutsu. The body flicker skill transported him with pinpoint accuracy in front of the Rookie, and before the tawny haired boy had fully registered the snarling, feral threat he was falling to the ground with a kunai lodged securely in his throat.

Stopping briefly to gather chakra and catch his breath, Kakashi clenched bloody, shaking hands. If Jiraiya ever found out he knew Yondaime's body flicker technique, he'd be for it. Kakashi was fond of the old man, but in the Saanin's own supportive way he underestimated the Copy Nin. His current status as an Elite Jounin, combined with his past familiarity with two of the Hokages, meant that Kakashi had often been privy to information above his station. Returning the favour by occasionally doing the odd ANBU class mission was fine by Kakashi. But he knew that if Jiji-Saanin discovered that the _'Master of a Thousand Jutsus'_ knew a couple more than that, Kakashi could kiss goodbye to his weekends, such as they were. Full time ANBU work would kill him. He knew he couldn't go back to that, not without _something_ to keep him human - like Yondaime-sensei had after Obito's death. Like Rin had after Yondaime's.

But – _fuck_ - his eye just _hurt_.

* * *

Five days earlier several of the elite Chuunin and Jounin had been chatting as they hung around the mission room.

Iruka and Raidou were about to start a long, boring shift, and Genma – practically attaching himself to Raidou's side – along with Anko and her cousin – an ANBU operative with similar purple hair - had decided to tag along and tease their friends. Asuma-sensei and Kurenai-sensei, having just finished training with their own teams, had met in the mission room intending to write their reports up quickly and so avoid any paperwork that would inevitably find its way to their lockers.

For a while, all were content about their own business, Asuma and Kurenai were bickering quietly (Iruka called it flirting) at an unused desk; Raidou had quickly grown so frustrated with Genma's teasing squirms he had bodily pulled the younger Jounin onto his lap, much to the amusement of Iruka and the two violet haired kunoichi. For a while that is, until one Hatake Kakashi stormed purposefully through the mission room and into the Hokage's office (according to a ruffled Maito Gai, who joined them several minutes later, Kakashi hadn't even _knocked_, and had not been reprimanded for his _rudeness_.).

Reports, work shifts and teasing immediately forgotten, the eight shinobi – including Gai's pouting intrusion – did what Konoha's shinobi were _infamous_ for. They Gossiped.

"What do you think about the rumours?" Raidou asked tentatively

"Total Bullshit" Asuma's statement was absolute. A comforting certainty that someone believed in their village's institutions.

"Agreed, if he'd lost his touch, he'd be dead by now" chirped Kurenai. "Kakashi's always been reckless with his own life…on the field..."

"Not to mention the amount of 'classified' missions he's been handed recently." Iruka continued "Might as well not bother coming to the mission room at all, we always have to send him to the Hokage lately."

"But the rumours have to come from _somewhere_, even if they _are _exaggerated." Genma considered from his perch on Raidou's lap. "You have to ask why they'd assign a _failing_ ninja _classified_ gigs? Unless they're trying to protect his reputation by concealing lame missions!"

The collective laughed warily. It _was_ Sharingan Kakashi they were discussing.

"I just can't see Kakashi ever becoming so _weak_, I mean, he's the _Copy Nin!_" Anko's cousin, not known for her strong opinions, earned a shared sigh from the kunoichi. The gathered males responded with a familiar groan.

"I thought you'd all grown out of your Kakashi-Fan-Club?" Asuma smirked, before stage whispering to Genma's confused look: "Crazy fangirl stalker types."

"We are _not_ _fan_girls." Kurenai practically squealed.

"We just have an _aesthetic_ _appreciation_ for badass, mysterious, unattainable, tragic yet smoulderingly hot shinobi…" Anko finished her defence somewhat breathlessly.

"_Fangirl."_ Asuma mouthed to Kurenai, receiving a hard slap to the cheek.

"How do you _know_ though?" Genma chewed thoughtfully on his senbon. "I mean, if it's common knowledge that Kakashi's hot, we'd have reference, right?" the collective shinobi gave their various assent, although Raidou slightly tightened his hold on his captured Jounin. "But he never takes the mask off. So _how_ do you _know_?"

"My Eternal Rival would never be so Vain as to Hide His Hideousness from the World! It is Unmanly!" Maito Gai was ignored without exception.

"He's pouty." Iruka's simple statement caught everyone's attention. "You can kind of make out his expression, sometimes - when - when the light's right - and he pouts, a lot. I think we just all subconsciously recognise that as… _Hot._"

Shutting up instantly as the shinobi in question appeared cheerfully before the gathered ninja, they watched awkwardly as Kakashi asked Iruka if there was anything for him. Iruka, taking a moment to calm his mortified blush, fished out a thin looking envelope from the pile on his desk.

"_Classified_, Kakashi-sensei." Iruka's mouth felt slightly dry as he handed the Copy Nin the folder. "Please report to Godaime-Sama for further details."

Kakashi's lips visibly formed an exaggerated pout as he thanked the academy sensei. Eight shinobi took careful note of it.

* * *

Sensing a presence spark within the forest behind him, Kakashi masked his chakra completely, removing his right glove and tapping into a form of energy he hadn't used since forever. '_Nostalgia is so overrated_.' White chakra danced quickly over his fingertips as he reached to his leg holster for a throwing star, flexing his hand a little, hoping his senses were accurate enough for the trick to work… '_Come on, Come out...' _When there was no movement from behind him, Kakashi guessed it was one of the A-Class. Probably from Waterfall - those he had come across generally excelled at hiding and masking their presence.

Not to be outdone, Kakashi's left hand reached up silently to pull his mask away from his nose. Breathing the necessary words to activate another well used jutsu, he diverted sense and chakra to his nose before taking three deep breaths. Quickly dispelling the jutsu and covering his nose to avoid nausea, Kakashi worked through the onslaught of scents to locate the cowardly bastard hiding in the trees. After a quick breath to steady himself, the Jounin pitched sidewards and _down_, using threads of chakra charged wire to control the shuriken he had thrown during his descent from the high trees to the hard ground. The Waterfall Nin, having been wildly missed, allowed himself a triumphant laugh, coming out of the shadows he had melded to in favour of watching his higher ranking opponent hit the unyielding earth, merely to... bamph out of existence?

Kakashi had created a clone mid fall, utilising his briefly heightened sense of smell to find a good place to hide and wait, hoping his opponent would give himself away. Using substitution technique with his clone upon hitting the ground, Kakashi appeared behind his opponent in time to push the spinning wired shuriken into the Waterfall Nin's back and legs. Kakashi's target turned in shock only to have his throat cut by the last of the metal stars. Kakashi let him drop to his team mate before sliding down to lean on the tree trunk at his back, breathing hard as a wave of fatigue hit him. '_Two out of four. Okay, now what?'_

A kunai missing his ear by a hair's breadth was the only real answer he needed.

* * *

Four days earlier, a group of young shinobi – still occasionally referred to as the Rookie Nine and Team Gai - were chatting as they hung around the training fields.

Shino and Neji were cooped up somewhere, unable to avoid shinobi duty to better bask in the stifling heat of Konoha's summer and Chouji, they had guessed, had been waylaid by the opening of a new Korean Barbeque Buffet-Restaurant, replacing the old one that had burned down several months before. Kiba was training Inuzuka dogs a few fields over, accompanied by Hyuuga Hinata, and the remaining collective could hear the shouts and barked commands as the powerful clan trained.

For a while, all were content to go about their own business, Ino and Shikamaru were bickering loudly (Naruto, half-heartedly sparring with Sasuke, called it flirting) under the shade of a large tree; Tenten had grown so frustrated with Rock Lee's hopeful squirming towards Sakura she had begun to beat him over the head with a large stick, much to the amusement of Naruto, and the two rival kunoichi. For a while, that is, until the heat grew too much for the Uchiha heir, who – pausing the fight - purposefully emptied a bottle of icy water over his head, before marching off to buy some more.

Teasing, sparring and beating immediately forgotten, the six young shinobi – including Naruto in his brushed off fury – did what Konoha's youth were _infamous_ for. They Gossiped.

"Speaking purely from an _aesthetic_ point of reference," Sakura began, voice slightly strained, "I'd like to point out the _wetness_ of Sasuke-kun just now."

"Totally with you on that one…" Ino commented. Tenten sighed.

The gathered males groaned.

"Che, women are so _difficult._ I thought you were _over_ that insane crush?" Shikamaru smirked as Naruto predictably began to mock in a brash falsetto.

"_Over Sasuke-kun?" _The blonde imitated Sakura _perfectly_, "_Never!_ Our girls are _fangirls_, Shikamaru, they'll never change."

"We are _not_ _fan_girls." Ino practically squealed.

"We just have an _aesthetic_ _appreciation_ for cool, mysterious, unattainable, angsty yet ridiculously pretty shinobi…" Tenten finished her defence somewhat breathlessly.

"_Fangirl."_ Shikamaru mouthed to Ino, receiving a hard slap to the cheek. He sunk to the floor with a sighed "troublesome," drifting in and out of his friends' comforting conversation and playful bickering.

The conversation eventually turned to Team 7's tardy instructor, as it inevitably always did, although after spending some time with the Copy Nin, Shikamaru was having a difficult time equating what he had discovered of the shinobi with Naruto's perception of the man. It just seemed to the shadow-user that Hatake-sama (and he'd earned the titled in Shikamaru's eyes) could see _through_ too much, was _aware_ of too much, for his affected manner to be anything _but_ controlled. And despite Team 7's ranting, seeing Sasuke's soft, fond smirk as his team-mates berated the only shinobi to really defend the Uchiha on his return to the Leaf convinced Shikamaru that they were aware of their teacher's façade.

"He didn't show up _at all_ today!" Sakura was saying. "No note, no dog, no lesson plan, no anything. Just left us on our own in the training grounds!"

Naruto added furiously; "Probably _forgot_ about us, knowing _that_ lazy bastard!"

Shikamaru amended himself: _'Okay, Perhaps not totally aware.'_

"What do you _mean_ he left you?" Tenten asked, "Didn't your teacher _tell you_ about his mission?"

"Gai-sensei said that Kakashi-sensei would be away for several nights, doing his brave duty to Konoha," Seeing the still confused look on his friends' faces, Lee carried on. "And Neji-san is _convinced_ his death is imminent and unavoidable!" Rock Lee struck an out of place Nice Guy pose, and Tenten cringed.

Sasuke's scoff was comforting to Shikamaru. If the morbidly paranoid Uchiha wasn't worried about his sensei, then there was no need for the young Chuunin to be.

"Bastard-sensei could have _told us!"_ Naruto protested, ignoring Lee totally. "We should visit the Old Lady, see if Kakashi-sensei left anything for us like last time. Maybe we can work out the loop holes before he gets back, and not have to do anything!"

"Not a bad idea, it's agreed then?" Sakura cheerfully accepted Sasuke's violent hiss at Naruto as an affirmation. "We'll visit her later. And Lee, you shouldn't be so doubtful. Godaime-sama wouldn't send Kakashi-sensei on a mission he couldn't complete!"

"I wouldn't be so sure!" Ino's eyes sparkled maliciously, a look Shikamaru found infinitely attractive when it was directed away from himself. Ino, working in a florists' in the Hidden Leaf Village, had found many opportunities to practise her _Information Gathering_ skills on the unsuspecting citizens from every walk of village life. Her awareness of every rumour, scandal and love triangle in Konoha was an endless source of ammunition for all the Rookie Nine.

"Haven't you heard the rumours?"

Hearing those most treasured words, seven students of the Elite Jounin gathered close to hear the blonde kunoichi. Sakura, with two questions left to ask her teacher, took careful note of every word.

* * *

After killing the Waterfall Nin, Kakashi had been openly confronted by the Sand Nin, quickly ending the battle by breaking the target's neck from behind in an act of pure blind luck. Adhering to his orders - ANBU click terms that explicitly requested he collect any information on the targets' person and ensure no signs of Konoha association were present at the assassination sites - Kakashi emptied the Sand Nin's pockets and prepared the clearing.

So after artfully arranging the dead shinobi to look as if they'd killed one another, Kakashi prepared for one final quick sweep to ensure that any Sand Allies wouldn't be aware of Konoha targeting one of their most wanted men. If the Nin was found dead, Sand would celebrate. Found dead at Kakashi's hand, and they'd assume Konoha doubted their abilities. Politics often got in the way of life, and Sasori's granny was frightening enough - and despised Kakashi enough - to make the Jounin _extra_ careful. He used several medical techniques to heal the bruising on the Missing Sand Nin's neck, and wrapped the Rookie's razor wire around the healed throat carefully, tugging on them slightly to create new bruising. He remembered Rin showing him that particular technique, and felt vaguely uncomfortable using it for such morbid purposes. _She'd kill me if she could see. She'd throw rocks, or something._

Propping himself against the trunk of a tree about ten paces from the scene, Kakashi surveyed his callous handiwork. He hadn't done anything so harsh in years. He'd forgotten how frighteningly efficient he was trained to be; how easily he could push his emotional responses to one side - an Archetypal Shinobi Robot. Better shinobi had lost their minds doing this particular part of the job. His first ANBU team had been torn apart by insanity, prompting Kakashi's later insistence on solo ANBU missions. It was the strange, ugly depth of contradiction that drove good fighters mad. To expect your troops to be ready to sacrifice those they loved, while asking them to destroy people like themselves, totally without reason; and then to ask them to maintain any sort of emotional stability in their every day lives... it was too much.

It was this conflict currently making Kakashi's head throb savagely - besides the heat, sleep deprivation and depleted chakra, of course, ran the look of surprise in that kid's eyes before the kunai had struck home. _That same kid whose wires I've just wrapped around the neck of the man whose hands I've just wrapped around the knife jutting out of neck of the kid that I've just killed without giving a shit_. That kid, who couldn't be more than seventeen, ten years younger than Kakashi, the same age as his students, the same hurt fire in his eyes as all of them...

If it wasn't for the empty, slightly dead feeling in his stomach, Kakashi might have wretched.

To kill these threats to his precious village, Kakashi had used the techniques of three people whose entire lives were devoted to compassion. The Hatake wires and Chakra of his father, the healing Jutsu of his dead medic team mate, the ninjutsu of his teacher... and he knew, without a doubt, that to continue to honour their memories, he would continue to kill.

Hatake Kakashi did not miss the irony.

* * *

Five days earlier, Princess Tsunade, as she was known, slouched regally in her office half listening to Maito Gai's emphatic pleading to allow his most beloved student to take the Jounin exam. Trying to explain the system of Jounin recommendations to Konoha's Beautiful Green Beast – a system he not only knew, but advocated – was useless. While Lee was not a Jounin, Gai would beg Tsunade to make him one. And, through sheer annoyance, she was very close to caving.

"He's late." She moaned to Jiraiya, sat writing in the corner of the room.

"Get used to it." Came the smirking response as the Saanin looked up quickly from his work. The Godaime didn't bother to ask what he was scribbling in those ragged little notebooks, the crimson stain still gracing Shizune's cheeks and neck was enough of an answer. '_Pervert_.' She grinned. '_It'll teach her to be nosy!'_

Hatake Kakashi – '_finally' –_ strolled through the office door, and Shizune immediately led Gai from the room, mid-rant. Tsunade smirked as she heard his scream of injustice at his rival's rude interruption, before straightening in her seat to face the Copy Nin. Jiraiya, too, moved his chair towards the Hokage's desk.

"He's right, you know." A casual lift of a golden eyebrow. "Learn to knock. It's impolite to just barge in like that!"

"Sorry I'm late, Hokage-Sama. I had difficulty coaxing our students from a pylon."

The amused expression on the masked shinobi's face convinced Tsunade that she did not want to know! The accompanying, _understanding_ chuckle from Jiraiya caused a brief moment of cold dread, before she realised that no matter how crazy, Kakashi would not let his students _die _during a training exercise.

"The Godaime has a favour to ask of you, Kakashi-kun" Jiraiya's 'serious' voice cut immediately through the relaxed atmosphere of the room.

It was Yondaime's "business voice," she realised with a jolt, and she could see the Fourth's influence in the attentive stances of the two powerful men before her. She longed suddenly for Kakashi to be anywhere else, so she could avoid making this particular request. Before she could stop him, her perverted team-mate carried on.

"As you have no doubt suspected, Konoha is far from safe at this present time. Though we are assured of their current wish to avoid open war, several criminal shinobi have been recruited by rogue organisations spurned on by the particular boldness of the Akatsuki and Sound. These small organisations have also expressed a combative interest in our allies and our village. Several recent ANBU missions have been ambushed or sabotaged, and several lesser missions have been targeted as well."

As Jiraiya had assumed, Kakashi did not seem at all surprised by the announcement.

"Kakashi…What I must ask of you is not easy to say…" Tsunade could vaguely remember Kakashi as a child; she had met him only twice, and unlike Jiraiya, who had shared with his student a fondness for the boy, she had never been able to understand him, his motives. Staring at the cold shinobi now, Tsunade searched him for some sign of life, of ambition, to make her next question easier. She found none.

"There are active shinobi who must not be given the opportunity to form against the Leaf. The results of their teaming up with enemy squads would, at best, be… unfortunate. We must also assure our alliances with the more powerful ninja villages." The Hokage paused. "You were once an assassin for the ANBU squad, under Yondaime and Sandaime's rule…"

"And you wish for me to take up that role again." There was no longer any hint of amusement on Kakashi's face. He looked pale, vaguely ill, though Jiraiya's hand resting lightly on her back made Tsunade swallow the sick, almost-maternal feelings that made the room suddenly too small. _'You're the Hokage, damn it, pull yourself together. Stop Caring.'_

"Despite the rumours, brat, we _know_ you're capable." Jiraiya's confidence restored Tsunade's own, and she reached into the drawer beside her to pass Kakashi a long disused ANBU mask. Kakashi held the mask gingerly, staring silently at the familiar dog-pattern adorning it, before pocketing it and slouching comfortably once more.

"I will do all I can, Godaime-Sama. What are my orders?" Kakashi did not bow, but nor did he look so pale. A weight lifted and Tsunade could breathe again.

"Umino Iruka has a list of your targets in the mission room. Be safe Shinobi, according to your track record, we expect you back within four days. Don't be messy, and bring back a souvenir."

Kakashi disappeared long before Jiraiya finally gave over to the disbelief fighting favour in his expression.

"Four days?"

"According to his record," Began the Medical Expert, "Hatake Kakashi is _always_ two days late back from this type of mission. I expect him to complete this one within seven days, including travel. If he sticks to his pattern, we may have found a way to get him home early." She smirked. "And wouldn't _that_ be something to tell the kids?"

"Hn. _That_ brat'll never change. He's been through too much for that. He's worse than we are." Jiraiya _was _fond, Tsunade realised. _Interesting._

"One of these days he'll actually show us what he's capable of." Tsunade received a knowing smirk before the white haired Saanin replied.

"I doubt that."

* * *

Kakashi stripped himself of the stifling porcelain facemask, wrapped a small strip of bandage around his lightly bleeding arm - the Sand Nin's second volley of Kunai held better accuracy than the first and had forced Kakashi to take the fight to ground level. The Copy Nin tied the ANBU dog mask to his belt, and pushed the Konoha bandana square on his forehead, fully exposing himself for the first time in five days of secret combat.

"Thank you for your kind patience, shinobi-san," Kakashi intoned to the forest around him, reaching up for the sword on his back; "I am ready for you now."

A sharp click to his right and suddenly Kakashi was barraged by shuriken from all sides. The sting of wire on his face and exposed upper arms told him it was a mistake to wait so long to address the fourth opponent who had so obviously led the other three. Obviously the enemy shinobi had taken the opportunity of the Konoha Nin's corpse arrangement to weave a wire-web about the site, closing the Copy Nin in. Bolting to the left - away from the sound - Kakashi grinned gleefully as he held his armoured lower arms around his head, avoiding the worst of the multi layered metal volley. '_Now this isn't a fair fight!'_

Kakashi methodically dismantled the net, attacking the trigger points with the aid of the Sharingan in the hopes of deflecting most of the painful, biting weapons. When the volley had stopped, Kakashi crouched beside three dead bodies in the centre of the small clearing, and the fourth enemy finally stepped out.

"Hatake Kakashi."

Sharingan spinning furiously, Kakashi concentrated on looking unaffected before this new enemy. Normal people simply didn't find being pelted with shuriken amusing. Normal shinobi, after a four day long mission, simply didn't see a potentially fatal fight as another prank. Normal Shinobi died very quickly, however, and Kakashi recognised his new opponent immediately.

"That was a neat trick you pulled off, Kengeki-San."

"I learned it for the Copy Nin, to kill him with." The brother of Momochi Zabuza bitterly spat.

Kakashi wasn't surprised at the venom of the man's voice. Only a few years difference had separated Zabuza from his younger brother, who was apparently heart broken when the famous swordsman joined six other rebel Mist Nins in their equally famous Coup d'Etat.

"Shaa… didn't work." _Find a button, push it. _"You look _so_ much like your brother, Kengeki-_Kun_"

"A brother _you killed, _you_ fuck!_" The physical flinch was impossible to hide, especially from the smiling Sharingan. In his fury, Kangeki had not thought of Zabuza's concealing bandages, not realised in his hatred the age difference between himself and the Copy Nin. Kakashi doubted that he'd been expecting a shinobi his brother's age, and may seeing Kakashi so much younger than many shinobi of his standard, underestimate the Konoha Nin…

The Leaf Jounin debated telling the real story of what had taken place three years ago, leading to Zabuza's death - Kakashi had respected Zabuza as a shinobi, but not enough to correct this brat if he thought his vengeance would be assuaged here. He made a quick internal calculation of chakra and stamina. Tired as he was, with the Sharingan so exposed, this battle could not last long. Kakashi needed Momochi Kengeki to lose control.

"I see how it is." Kakashi whispered mournfully, standing slowly. The only answer from his opponent was a confused creasing of the brow. "You wish to die by my hand also."

The look of shock on the man's face was telling. Kengeki obviously had never thought he would get this close, had never really tallied up the reputations of Zabuza of the Seven Swords and Sharingan Kakashi. Kengeki was obviously realising for the first time that Zabuza had been an excellent ninja, so what must the opponent before him be capable of?

Kakashi allowed Kengeki to stew silently for a few heartbeats, before rushing forwards, slamming the flat of his sword against Kengeki's backside.

Sidestepping the furiously shocked lunge, Kakashi moved his sword quickly, again using the flat width to deliver a sound thwack to the back of Momochi's head. Kengeki drew his own large sword and began to fight back. A too-close edge barely swiped Kakashi's midriff, and the Copy Nin tightened his movements, beginning to fully analyse his opponent's technique with the Sharingan, pushing Momochi back amongst the trees.

He was good, he was better than good. Having obviously inherited his brother's swordsmanship, Kengeki matched Kakashi blow for blow – the occasional swipe too close for comfort, scoring thick red gashes into one another's flesh. While Kengeki's speed and accuracy with the long sword were perhaps superior to Zabuza's - Kakashi's chosen weapon as a child had been the short sword, and with the aid of the Sharingan, his lithe movements kept him in the game for a lot longer than Kengeki expected.

Momochi Kengeki's initial anger had eventually dissipated with the realisation of Kakashi's skill, and with it disappeared the Copy Nin's trump card. The furious blows took on a strategic edge, and Kakashi felt himself walking into a trap. Turning suddenly, gouging a line in Kengeki's right thigh, Kakashi put himself on Momochi's other side, hoping to escape what his instincts were telling him. That feeling grew, however, when Momochi threw a violent swing towards his opponents head, kicking out with his bloody leg when Kakashi crouched to avoid the sword's blow.

Reeling back from the impact to his still bruised skull, Kakashi fought back nausea as he tried to right himself, vaguely wondering why he hadn't _seen_ that kick in time to block it and realising with a jolt that he _had_. Forcing his body to respond more quickly to the Sharingan, Momochi's heavy sword came crashing back to meet only a green log – with Kakashi nowhere to be found.

A crunch to his left had Kengeki pitching towards his assailant, only to feel the sharp agony of a kunai drag him by the right shoulder to come eye to eye with the blood red Sharingan. Standing nose to nose with his gasping opponent, Kakashi spoke in hushed, unhurried clarity, somehow fiercer than his usual, lazy drawl.

"Unfortunately, I must cut our time here short. It would seem I'm far more affected from the past few days than I realised, and this game is pointless and wasteful." Kakashi used the Sharingan to show the man his brother's death. Haku's death. Weaving images from his own memory and placing them in the strange void that could come from the Second Level of Sharingan.

"I did not kill Momochi Zabuza. He died honourably, and redeemed some part of himself." Kakashi poured those last moments into the void, not showing his students' faces, not risking the lives of any ninja but himself. "You may try to kill me if you wish, but it will be meaningless, and your village will suffer at the hands of mine." Kakashi showed Kengeki his brother's last request.

"Have we not already too much war?"

* * *

A few miles away, safe inside the village walls, Umino Iruka had been having an awful day. His more troublesome brats would just _not_ quieten down, and to make matters worse, Kurenai-sensei had sent Naruto to his class to "help out" for a while, as Kakashi-sensei was currently still on a confidential mission somewhere.

"…and Kakashi-lazy-bastard-sensei said that he would be back _today_ at the _latest_, but he was expected back _Thursday,_ according to The Old Lady, and as today's Friday and he's not _back_ yet, the lazy-bastard is not only _late_ for the Hokage but for _us_ as well. He's later than late, the tardy-_baka_-sensei, and we've _done_ all the training he set us, setting us up like some dirty _perverts! _And how can someone be so _late_ for _everything _- "

"Big Brother, does your sensei _really _let you call him all those names?" "Is Kakashi better than _you_ Iruka-sensei?" "I heard about him! He's _famous_!" "What kind of famous ninja would take that idiot as a student?" "Don't you talk about Naruto-kun like _that!" "YEAH YOU LITTLE BASTARD!" "Iruka-sensei! _He's calling me _names!"_

Eventually, amongst the jumbled medley of youthful voices, the twitching in Iruka's jaw had ceased completely. His balled fists had slammed onto the desk, shaking the legs of it, and an eerie, tense sort of calm descended before his garbled scream of frustration had shaken every child in the room into perfect silence. And every child in the building. And every teacher, villager and wandering shinobi in a five mile radius. Not to mention the building itself.

When the class had re-settled, Iruka led them all outside, told Naruto that if he didn't shut the _hell_ up _immediately_ he'd personally make sure Konoha's most surprising ninja never said a word again, and proceeded to share out miraculously produced cookies and tea with his students, past and present, while he taught them about shinobi history.

Specifically, the tragedies of war.

* * *

_It was nice_, Kakashi thought, _walking_ _away from a mission with one's consciousness, limbs, and general dignity intact_. Alright, so it was more of tired limp, shallow wounds littering his neck, chest, and well, everywhere really. A gash on his temple from one of the battles was going to _itch like death_ under the hitae-ate, but there was little he could do about it. His chakra was almost totally depleted after that final exhausting Sharingan technique, but it was worth it, in a way, that out of seven opponents he had avoided killing the one in pain. He'd defeated Kengeki with compassion, of all things, with a love of life. Obito would've liked that, maybe.

Finding a cool, shaded, _quiet_ spot by a small stream, Hatake Kakashi finally bathed his burning ear and throbbing, weeping left eye until the accompanying face-ache subsided.

Sometimes that eye cried a little, and Kakashi, cursing Obito's worry, felt slightly less alone.

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER 2**

Hey-Diddle-Diddle: thankyou! It's really weird being reviewed by people whose work I _read_, it's kind of like Christmas! I _love_ your kakairu, and the fruits basket fic. Paper Cranes is amazing. Sorry, I'm done gushing now. XD

active-heart: yeah, I can't help but think Kakashi'shabit of totally ignoring Sakura would make her find stuff out in other ways. Once a geek, always a geek. XD

sacred-aliance: Am reading as I type, lol. Reviewing may take a while, as this plot-bunny is not so much biting as clamping is nasty little jaws in my neck.

foo: Can I ask what part you found confusing? I really want to improve my writing style, and I know that lacking a beta it's hard to detatch from my own writing. Yeah this'll go on for a while, the chapters will loosely relate, but I think the genre may skip a lot, as it's an experiment.

paperwing: Oh, yeah... Sakura's questions... they may take a while to show up. (I can't think of anything Sasuke would be proud of, but that might work!)

Chibirisuchan: yeah, that part was horrifically fun to write. It's amazing how out of character you can write Team 7 without it being in any way surprising. They're just _sooo screwed _up. thankyou soo much for the rec. --- I'm a side effects fangirl, what more can I say? I have so much respect for your writing and am gutted I wasn't _Naruto-savvy_ while you were in mid-swing! XD Good luck beating real life!

Leah: Thankyou! I'm word vomit girl, I tend to find tangents I like and keep them whether they fit or not, so I'm not _that _surprised it was disjointed, lol! Hopefully this one works a bit better, thanks for your comment!

Thanks also to Alicorn, ninjabetter, btwinkyb and Meleth78!


	3. 03

**Notes: **Experiments in _angst-that-isn't-angst_. This bug bites – I have like 20 pages of notes and no idea how to fit them into the story. Ah well, better than writing nothing. (Although, my poor coursework). And what happened to the funny? Gah. Ibiki is _so much fun_ to write.  
(Timelines, names and heights I check on narutofan dot com.)

**Thanks to everyone that read and/or reviewed!**

* * *

Kakashi stands, exhausted, in the Hokage's office, waiting for her to finish whatever meeting she's in before he can deliver his confidential mission report - verbal, of course, because missions of this kind are never recorded on paper in any great amount of detail.

'_Mission Completed by ANBU 'Hound,' solo. 26th April.' _

Whatever had kept him moving through the night had evaporated on meeting Konoha's familiar gates, and the shameful truth _– 'it was only six ninja' – _is that it's taking every tiny reserve of chakra he has left in order to actually stay standing.

Tsunade finally storms into the central office, flanked by Haruno Sakura, Jiraiya and Shizune, and a limping Hagane Kotetsu. At the latter's shocked expression, Kakashi can only imagine how he appears – fierce ANBU mask as muddy and bloodstained as the rest of him; his body swaying slightly in a futile attempt to just stand _still._ He must surely look about as bad as he feels; it's impossible not to catch the professionally concerned look Tsunade flashes her ebony-haired assistant as a wide-eyed Sakura – years of training kicking in – curtsies slightly – the respectful, somehow fearful, _"Shinobi-san"_ slipping past her lips.

'_Oh please' – _For the fist time in his life, Kakashi wants someone to read his mind. – '_Please don't tell Sakura who I am…'_

As his student leaves the room with Kotetsu and Shizune in tow, Kakashi refuses to accept the idea that she'll probably figure him out for herself – wanting to keep this small part of him separate from the world, from his team. He longs for the acceptance of his team; selfish as it is he always hoped they would look to him as he did to _his_ sensei; though it's a foolish dream – Yondaime died before Kakashi was old enough to discover _his_ imperfections, but the Copy Nin has many flaws.

Sharingan Kakashi has played many roles in his life –Yondaime's Prodigy, the Hatake Brat, the pervert-Sensei, the Copy Nin; but he has never wanted to be the ANBU Hound in front of his students. Never wanted them to see him as a _killer_ despite the times they'd watched him _kill_. So Kakashi refuses to think about the tell tale shock of silver-white hair, drooping slightly from the heat and dirt and sweat of the mission; He doesn't think about the fact that Sakura was probably _informed_ about the kind of state they expected him back in. Hatake Kakashi disappears on a mission that should last four days. Six days later an ANBU operative staggers home – 5'11", white-grey hair, blue-grey eye, dog mask – and Kakashi mysteriously appears for training the next day, Pakkun in hand. No, Kakashi is not fool enough to believe he could fool any student of his own.

But surely he deserves just one break?

Finally ready, the Hokage stands in front of the assassin and waits silently.

"Sorry I'm late." The porcelain muffles his weak voice more than his usual cloth does, but then, that's probably the point. "Caught up with an unexpected friend."

"Nice reunion?" Kakashi hadn't even realise that Jiraiya had moved to his side, and the sudden nearness of his voice makes him jump. It doesn't stop him leaning into a rough hand carefully gripping his pale arm, subtly helping him stay upright.

"Shaa… a poor excuse for a party…lots of knives, very little cake."

Kakashi longs to take the ANBU mask off, but can feel his heavy eyes drooping and is wary of embarrassing himself in front of a Hokage whose confidence he is unsure of. Tsunade trusts him, yes, as she does not believe her teacher and his chosen successor would put their faith in a child who had not earned it; but Kakashi is very much aware of the associative nature of her trust.

Kakashi briefly loses himself in his thoughts and Tsunade takes the opportunity to tend to his more prominent wounds. With Jiraiya's aid she removes his arm and chest armour, exposing pale skin flecked with lingering gashes.

"You may report when ready, Shinobi of Konoha." The formality jolts Kakashi from his drifting delirium, and, handing the Hokage the scrolls he brought back, he recites the particulars of the mission neutrally, without emotion, finding the familiar, ugly words comforting.

He remembers all too clearly the report briefing of his first assassination mission; his body shaking as he tried desperately to remain calm amongst his elders. He hadn't even been ANBU then, let alone Jounin, but for the war and the serious lack of capable shinobi he would have never have been permitted such a task. Kakashi could remember staying poker faced until he had finished, until Sandaime had sent everyone from the room except for his student and successor – Jiraiya-Sannin and the future Yondaime - and then the boy's stoicism had crumpled, left him all but sobbing in his teacher's arms. The rare moment of weakness had been short lived, however, and the three powerful shinobi had looked on strangely, proudly, as Kakashi explained why he had wept. _Sorry, Hokage-Sama, but I've never had to take a _life_ without knowing why… _

"Thank you, shinobi-san. Though I didn't expect you to come back so…distressed."

Tsunade's almost concerned voice drags Kakashi back into the present, and the Jounin is suddenly furious at the other Sannin's care worn hands supporting his back and arm. '_Fuck Them.' _Had these supposed geniuses not _heard_ him explain the consequences of overusing the Sharingan? Of what happens to the body's reaction time if not allowed to _rest_ between its using? Had they not _listened_ as he reported the unexpected organisation of his targets, instigated by the brother of Momochi Zabuza? Of the _insanity_ of expecting a ninja of _any_ level to hunt down seven powerful shinobi in _four days_?

_Fuck them_ if they had assumed that he would just stroll back into the Hokage's office after this sort of mission, rested, pampered and tanned. If it was such an easy mission to accomplish, why not send her favourite rookies out? If it was so demanding of a mere Jounin, why not go and fight her _own_ battles? If the most powerful shinobi in the Hidden Leaf could be so unprepared to run around destroying her enemies, then it's just plain insulting to mock those injured doing _her_ dirty work.

The unexpected rush of bitter anger makes Kakashi feel suddenly dizzy; makes him lean further into Jiraiya's supportive hands despite his fury.

Forcing himself to take several deep breaths to calm down, becoming oddly thankful for the stifling mask hiding the frustrated wetness in his eyes, Kakashi is aware that his every thought is illogical, over the top – way out of line. But right now, _logic be damned_, right now Kakashi just feels totally used. He's too beaten down, too _young_ suddenly, and just too tired to breathe.

Tsunade, unaware of how close Kakashi is to just _biting_ _her_ _face_, moves as if to remove his mask, eyes widening as the Jounin physically recoils from her touch, seemingly unaware of his own actions. Seeing Jiraiya's own confusion as Kakashi trembles stubbornly in his arms, Tsunade ploughs onwards.

"I have one more task for you, Hatake. Translate the scrolls as best you can. They're written in a shorthand-dialect, but I'd like to keep this mission low-key." She pauses, letting what she _hasn't _said sink in. "Have them back to me as soon as possible. If you need any help, Grade 2 clearance is required."

Kakashi thinks it's better to appear weak than lose his temper in this room, but he still tries in vain to steady his hands as he takes back the scrolls, bowing formally. Tsunade can't help but feel oddly snubbed by Kakashi's politeness. With all the blood rushing in his ears, Kakashi neither hears the Godaime's last words as he drags himself away, nor catches the pondering concentration darkening Jiraiya's expression.

"Don't break him, Jiji."

* * *

News travelled fast in Konoha, and it was only a few hours later that Genma was sitting in the academy's Teacher's Lounge, politely sipping tea with Morino Ibiki whilst waiting for Raidou to finish covering some sick sensei's lessons. The whole idea of _politely sipping_ anything felt strange to the Jounin, but the younger shinobi – famous for his obsession with psychology and ability to dissect a person in minutes – gave Genma the chills.

And Ibiki, the cunning bastard, was gaining far too much satisfaction from watching the sandy-haired man tense up every time he so much as _moved. _Eventually, the interrogation expert grew bored with Genma's nervousness, and in an attempt at making conversation asked why the senbon sucking shinobi was waiting in the small room.

The responsive whimper made Ibiki regret asking _anything._

"I'm not trying to freak you out, Shiranui. I'm just curious." Ibiki's direct explanation was no more comforting to Genma than if he had been asking him to strip naked and cook him a buffet meal.

"Raidou-kun's covering someone's class and we have this, er -" Genma coughed, nervously, grasping at bravado. "– This _ongoing mission_, so I thought I'd come down and exchange the latest gossip – _information –_ but he was teaching, so I'm here. Waiting." A pause. "For Raidou."

The doe eyed mortification on Genma's face practically _begged_ Ibiki to probe further – but, being a Konoha Shinobi – he was loathe to scare the older, less experienced Jounin off without first discovering the nature of this '_information.' _Ibiki leaned in close to the other nin, under the guise of filling his tea cup, and breathed evenly, noisily, setting Genma even more on edge. He leant back in his seat calmly, exuding confidence, training his every action to scream '_I am in control.'_

Genma pulled a tissue from his pocket, dabbing at his sweat-sticky forehead and neck. Ibiki gave a feral grin, knowing what effect that particular expression had combined with his infinitely useful scars. Genma twitched slightly, and then repeatedly.

The two excellent shinobi sipped politely at their tea.

After ten _looooonnngg_ minutes, the bell signalling the end of the day's lessons rang shrilly through the building – causing the already tense Genma to squeak slightly in surprise. After a few seconds of unbelievably nervous laughter, Namiashi Raidou burst into the room growling. Ibiki grinned. Genma tried puppy eyes. Raidou, who had briefly trained with the interrogatory genius and spent almost every day of the last three years of his _life_ receiving those puppy eyes for _something_ _or another_, was unmoved by them both.

"Unless either one of you are about to suggest a thousand and one ways to _destroy_ every child in this _horrible_ village without me getting screwed for it, I suggest, respectfully, that you wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, Ibiki-san; _and don't even_ _try it Genma." _Raidou turned menacingly on his best friend._ "_Stop looking at me like that._ Right now."_

Genma, under the combined force of Ibiki and Raidou, could not prevent making a small noise of distress in the back of his throat. In a very meek voice, he told Raidou the reason he had come to meet him. Three minutes later the elite shinobi were gathered around one end of the room's large table, fear and tea forgotten, mulling over the latest Gossip.

"Look," Raidou cut in, ever the voice of reason, "Just because the guy _looked like _Kakashi -"

"No man, seriously, Kotetsu-san _saw _him. _It was Kakashi!"_

"Genma, shut up, Raidou's talking" The spiky haired Jounin smirked at Ibiki's amused glance as he continued. "Just because the guy _looked_ like Kakashi, that doesn't mean it _was_ him. How many shinobi are there in this village with grey hair? And how many ANBU members disguise themselves on missions? Think about it."

They went on for a while, Genma insisting his source was a sure thing, and Raidou shooting him down almost on reflex. Ibiki found the ease of their exchange intriguing – though not as intriguing as the fact that neither put on the usual casual nonchalance that came reflexively with the presence of a shinobi outside one's own little clique.

"Did your source see the mask?" Ibiki's question shocked the Elite Jounin from their bickering, and he took in their confused expressions before continuing. "Hatake-san is ex-ANBU, so it's not totally implausible that the shinobi in question _is_ him. You find me the mask, I'll find out who owns it. Repeat that and you will suffer." And, before his offer had fully sunk in, Ibiki left the room.

"Woah," breathed Raidou, intelligently. "Just, _woah, _you know?"

Genma nodded breathlessly.

"ANBU Kakashi…" A short sort of shudder worked its way through both men. "I wonder why he quit…"

Once he could breathe again, Genma's face broke into a manic grin. "Well," he hissed gleefully. "If you listen to the _rumours…"_

* * *

Iruka finally found Kakashi in Ichiraku Ramen bar, hunched over a bowl of food in the far corner of the small shop; back to the world. He didn't notice the few customers at the counter, or the aging owner's waved greeting – just walked briskly to his friend's side intending to break the desperate tension that had been clinging to them since their last meeting – more of a spat – a week before.

"Kakashi-sensei, may I sit down?"

Kakashi looked up wearily from playing idly with his noodles to see Umino Iruka - all rumpled, determined and pretty; and totally, totally clueless. Kakashi grunted an affirmative and slouched back over the table, tapping a chopstick idly against the forehead protector lying by his right hand on the table. Iruka sat stiffly, nervously, letting Kakashi make the first move, letting the older shinobi let him stew. Finally, the grey-haired ninja sighed.

"So _polite_, 'Ruka-_Sen_sei."

The bitter twang of Kakashi's voice surprised him more than the slight slurring of words, and he watched with a sort of fascination as Kakashi brought a damp – presumably cool – cloth to his left eye. The Sharingan eye. His right eye was heavy lidded – red-rimmed and glazed – the fabric of his mask bunching at his collar.

Iruka didn't know what to say, where to start or how, so he sat in the awkward silence staring idly at the paleness of his friend's slender throat, habitually averting his eyes from Kakashi's face. He could tell that Kakashi's bitterness had nothing to do with him, but Iruka's guilt complex was as potent as his mother-hen impulses, and he accepted Kakashi's hurt –whatever it might be – almost gratefully.

Three years of friendship was not enough for Iruka to believe he knew the man sitting opposite him. Kakashi's closet was full of skeletons that were _never_ coming out; but Iruka had, by now, seen many of his comrade's moods. Kakashi in a snit was dangerous, his general contentment was hazardous at best, but Kakashi was rarely truly angry, rarely openly upset. After three years of close scrutiny, and several more of acquaintanceship, Iruka had only once seen the Copy Nin quite like this. As the silence between them grew, he had never seen the man look so _lost._

Kakashi winced suddenly, pouting childishly at his body's unwelcome admission of pain, and Iruka's startled eyes fix on the older man's naked face. '_And he's pouting, oh god.'_

The owner of Ichiraku appeared at their table - apparently having spotted Kakashi's empty glass - and filled it wordlessly. Paying no mind to Iruka, Kakashi threw back the hot sake, shuddering a little as the warm alcohol burned his throat. The cup was refilled immediately, the bottle left on the table with a dull clunk, and Iruka was shocked by the old man's pitying gaze as he quickly wiped the table down before leaving the two shinobi alone again.

The silence was too heavy, too worrying – it'd been almost an hour since either of them spoke, and Iruka _needed_ to say something. He felt ridiculous for holding his tongue, holding his nerve, and so blurted something stupid about how tired Kakashi looked, before pretending to examine the table top.

Kakashi's lips quirked in exhausted amusement, caused Iruka's heart to wrench a little. Iruka had always worked by instinct, feeling his way through a situation – one of the reasons he was so good with the village's more troublesome children – but Kakashi had always known how to throw him off, how to confuse the younger teacher. When it came to Hatake Kakashi, doing what one thought was best was usually the _last_ thing to do.

So instead, as Kakashi began to play with his food again, Iruka found himself asking the very question that he shouldn't.

"How was your mission? Naruto says you're late back?" He noted with interest the flash of panic in Kakashi's visible eye.

"They know I'm back?" The question was carefully casual, but the cheerful voice failed to mask the underlying tension. Iruka quickly decided that even potential Gossip wasn't worth hearing that tone.

"I don't know, I saw Naruto-kun yesterday - he was saying something about a mission to pervert him, and how you're later than late for everything you set your mind to."

If Iruka had intended his warm smile to ease the more experienced Shinobi's urgency, he was mistaken. Kakashi leant forward hurriedly at the mention of his student, exposing that fearful eye, and the young teacher couldn't help but notice the wiry tension in the other man's form.

"Yesterday, I killed a boy Naruto's age. He _moved_ the way they do, Iruka, and I let the brother of an enemy live." The harsh laugh seemed wildly out of place as he gestured with his chopsticks. "I'm cold, I feel cold. I think I'm sick."

"What?" Iruka couldn't keep the horror from his voice – but the look on Kakashi's _face_… "Why did you?"

"I don't _know_. That's just _it. _Why don't I know?" His voice sounded clearer than it had all evening, but his alcohol-glazed eyes were bright and brimming with some _furious_ emotion and Iruka would've given _anything_ to have an answer for his friend.

"I'm sure you did everything you could…If they were your orders…" The words sounded hollow even to Iruka's own ears – totally out of place – and Iruka knew he'd missed his chance to help.

"Orders. Right. He had to go, and I got the short straw. Or he did, whatever." The fire died in Kakashi's eyes as suddenly as it had come. "Life goes on…I _don't_ care."

"Kakashi…" Iruka couldn't fight his mother-hen instincts as Kakashi began to worry at his lip. "How drunk are you?"

"What?" Kakashi squeezed the watery Sharingan eye shut, forcing a stray tear to roll quickly down his cheek – flinching a little as the salt disturbed a shallow cut. "I think – a little – yeah…"

Iruka had to play his next move carefully. Kakashi was not used to taking orders, not good at giving up control, the only trick Iruka was sure would not fail against the Copy Nin was a tactic even the Third had been unable to resist. The _Caring Teacher_ voice.

"Let me see you home."

Kakashi laughed a little.

* * *

The owner of Ichiraku nodded to the two shinobi as they left, arms linked, one pretending not to need the other's support. A last grasp at bravado.

He turned to the white-haired ninja at the counter. "You grow fond of kids like that." He began cleaning around the man. "The ones who get punched in the gut but keep on going."

Humming around a mouthful of ramen, finishing with a noisy slurp, the shinobi partly agreed. "Not kids anymore, Old Man. Not for a long time."

"They're still young in years, if not in spirit. And if _you're_ any judge, they still have time." Jiraiya grinned at the insult to his impeccable maturity, gesturing for the chef to continue. "Hatake-san used to come in here with his team, you remember? Even then he never acted his age. Always bitching on that Uchiha boy about _eating properly. _I'd never heard the like from a _child_."

"I remember. They were so young." Jiraiya's smile was wistful, nostalgic. Remembering the grief his favourite student's favourite student had put them _both _through with his wildness and his _skill_. Mostly, though, it was his personality that gave them trouble.

"They're _still_ young." The villager repeated, "You get to know their moods."

The white haired Sannin finished his meal with a flourish, ending the conversation before it bordered on uncomfortable territory.

"Thanks, filled a hole. The food, that is, not the trip down memory lane!" He grinned as he stood, taking the edge off the barb. Counting out his change, Jiraiya paid for his meal along with the sake he had gradually fed into Kakashi's system. '_The boy needed to relax_,' he thought, and Jiraiya was nothing if not dutiful.

"Doesn't Uzumaki Naruto have a tab here? Give me that too, while I'm feeling unusually generous." He waggled his fingers slightly, making the kind offer somehow disturbing to the older man.

"No can do, I'm afraid - I'm not to let anyone pay Team 7's tabs." A growl from the feared Nin had the old cook rushing to explain himself. "Hatake-San wants Naruto-kun to understand the value of money and training, and Sasuke-kun to understand team-work, so he leaves a certain amount of their tab unpaid each month."

A heavy silence as Jiraiya tried to work that out. "A certain amount… meaning?"

"What Hatake-san doesn't pay for, the boys do. Apparently, there's some sort of "_direct correlation_" between how foolishly they act and how much they pay. Same goes for almost every eatery in the village – my niece works in the Korean Barbeque." The two men shared a grin as Jiraiya contemplated this new information.

Spending two and a half years training the adorable brat had often led Jiraiya to question how Naruto could afford to eat the amount he did on low level D and C class pay, and the idea that Kakashi would hit upon Naruto's weakness so easily and use it to train the kitsune was so typical, and yet uniquely perverse. Naruto trained well, Naruto ate well. Sooner or later, Naruto would come to the conclusion that performing badly meant having to train twice as hard to pay off his debts. Sasuke, on the other hand, would probably struggle to pay his bills if he acted selfishly or recklessly. The combination of Yondaime's supportive training style and Kakashi's own independent sense of humour had led him to a most inspired mind game.

Naruto's dogged determination had always been apparent, but his ability to turn that into effective focus – whether or not he managed what he was trying, he _tried _every time – had been perfected in Kakashi's training. And, more recently since his return, Sasuke had been working _with _his team rather than against them. All the rumours running like wildfire around he village would be halved in a flash if anyone _realised - _except Kakashi, being Kakashi, hadn't let anyone know. And besides, without knowing about Yondaime's training methods no-one would ever believe Kakashi capable of those mind games – as the Jounin was no doubt fully aware.

_Yondaime, _Jiraiya offered up a silent prayer. _How did you cope with brats crazier than yourself?_

Jiraiya chuckled lightly, feeling an unsure weight lift from his shoulders, feeling for the first time in days that his plans for the Copy Nin might just work.

"Well then," The chuckle became a grin. "I'll leave the brat's training methods intact."

Moving to the exit, seeing in the distance a stumbling Kakashi falling conveniently into Umino-sensei's arms, Jiraiya couldn't resist flashing a conspiratorial grin at the Ichiraku owner. "Kids like Kakashi, huh?"

"You grow fond of them."

"So help me, but you do." Jiraiya wondered if Tsunade would still be awake, and what she was wearing – it was early yet.

" 'Night."

* * *

At 10pm that evening, Saratobi Asuma was running at top speed across Konoha's rooftops - a speed great enough to rival the Taijutsu expert, Maito Gai. He flew across the village's beautiful sights, oblivious to them all. Too intent on his task, his mission – a mission that each of the elite had volunteered to share.

Arriving at his destination in record time, Asuma rapped quickly on Kurenai's window pane before dropping onto her carpeted bedroom floor, panting slightly. _Really need to cut down on the cigarettes. _The thought dissipated even as he reached into his flak jacket for a light. Predictably, Kurenai was nowhere to be found at the very time he needed her. Accepting of his predestined lot in life – to be forever waiting for the insane Konoichi to show up – Asuma dropped bonelessly onto her couch to wait.

Team 10 had taught Asuma a lot about patience and strategy. There was much to be said for the stubborn powers of an Uchiha fangirl, a constantly hungry boy, and a 70 year old trapped in a teenager's body. So Asuma was content to sit, doing nothing, as he waited for his team-mate to come home. It gave him a chance to consider his mission – and the rumours surrounding a particular team-mate of his.

Shikamaru had spent a few days the week before training in the ANBU control room. As Asuma had been on a field mission at the time it had been left to other shinobi to rotate as best they could, teach Shikamaru the ropes. The ANBU control room was a stereo monitored war cabinet – used by high level strategists to communicate with field agents on the rare occasion a mission was necessary to perform 'blind.' (A more frequent use of the sound-proof room was to initiate new ANBU recruits with large amounts of alcohol, but Shikamaru didn't need to know that yet.)

Shikamaru's task had been, with the aid of a few maps and a microphone, to remain in constant contact with a particular ANBU operative – leading her through a series of mazes and traps with the basic objective being to find a metaphorical needle in a haystack and avoid getting pricked. While three separate Jounin had taken Shikamaru through the process, Kakashi alone had made an impression on the young Chuunin. When he'd heard the tale a week later, after his return, Asuma hadn't been surprised.

"_Everyone was saying that you had to remain a step ahead and instruct the operative well enough that they stayed where you wanted them, which was so troublesome…"_

Asuma remembered noticing for the first time how casual Shikamaru's drawl became when he was excited.

"…_but Hatake-san said that was insane, because if you're trapped in a room full of maps, and your contact's lost in a forest full of sharp pointy things aimed at their heads, how can you expect them to stay alive _and _remain exactly where you tell them?"_

"_What did you say to that, Shikamaru?"_

Asuma couldn't resist asking – wishing he'd been there, wishing he could see the frustration on the faces of his unfortunate comrades at the prospect of these two lazy, listless geniuses in the _same room _as one another.

"_I asked him if he was implying that my job was not to lead them where they had to go, but just to keep them on their paths." _Asuma could imagine the satisfied grin on Kakashi's masked face at the logical Chuunin's words. Shikamaru couldn't know the pains past officials had gone to, trying to limit Kakashi's dense riddles to basic, single layered metaphors.

"_Hatake-sama asked me if I played Shogi, and asked if my contact knew how to play." _Asuma smirked as he'd noticed his student's failure to correct the flattering honorific._ "I didn't understand until he showed me a map of the area – did you know the ANBU training ground looks _just_ like a game board?" _

"_It was designed with the game in mind, to teach strategy in a more commonly understood way."_

The boy nodded. _"At least you give straight answers. Hatake's riddles are troublesome to work through; I passed the training very quickly, though."_

"_I thought you might, Shikamaru-kun"_

Shikamaru had been quiet for a long time after that, contemplative.

"_Asuma-sensei, Hatake-sama didn't seem at all like Naruto describes him, although, this afternoon… they were acting very oddly…"_

Asuma chuckled at the memory of his student's confused, almost scandalised face. The strange behaviour of Team 7 was shocking, but Asuma was wary of too soon reacting to the mind games of his Sharingan wielding friend. Kakashi rarely broke people for a reason, and his recollection was too perfect for it to make as little sense as it seemed to. His chuckle was cut short, however, as a familiar presence entered the apartment.

"_SARATOBI ASUMA, get the FUCK off my COUCH!" _

Kurenai never used such volume for anyone but him, and Asuma grinned shamelessly up at the fiery eyed woman.

"I have a 'mission report.' " At those words, Kurenai's hand – halfway to a kunai – landed on her hip. The familiar, attentive stance told Asuma that he had her attention.

"You may report when ready, Shinobi of Konoha." She was grinning with him now. This was _definitely _the most entertaining mission they'd ever volunteered for.

"There's a rumour that Hatake Kakashi is back. Injured again. _Exhausted."_ He merely continued to smile – for now withholding the _other_ rumour until it had been denied or confirmed; that it had been an ANBU mission that had injured their team-mate.

"Oh man." Unaware of Asuma's light deceit, she sunk to the floor, teasing formality forgotten. "You believe them?" The silence lay thick between them as he considered his answer.

"Asuma-sempai, do you believe the rumours?"

"Only half of them."

* * *

Orphaned at an early age and having grown up on a battle field, Kakashi often considered himself an emotional fuckwit.

Kakashi didn't know much about family or friendship or hugs or sharing, instead his focus tended to centre on his _experiences_ of life. The various shaping incidents in his relatively short lifetime had left the Copy Nin with an appreciation of the senses, and the sensual, and so many traditional taboos – not to mention those of gender and sexuality – had never really bothered Kakashi, if he wanted something why not take it? Being half blind for the majority of one's time would make a person realise how much there was to _see;_ training with tracking dogs left a sense of smell close to animalistic; Touch and Taste held deeper meanings for a child who had been starved of both; and Kakashi had once, at the age of fifteen, spent a month devoted to training his sense of hearing after realising he'd been neglecting the opportunity. That had been a fun month.

Thinking about it, the only contact Kakashi had received after his father had _passed_ had been from his team mates or his enemies. His sensei's affectionate hair-ruffling and shoulder-grasping had often been misinterpreted. Not knowing what to make of it, Kakashi assumed he was being mocked. Obito's childish rough-housing, though natural in such a large and close knit clan as the Uchihas, was lost on the lone Hatake, who was more concerned with perfecting his round-house jaw-buster. Rin's clumsy, roaming hands had put Kakashi on edge for the longest time. In fact, the only touches Kakashi had really understood as a child were the ones that tried to hurt him.

Eventually, Kakashi's survival instincts had warped into what Sandaime had explained as _negative associations_ – meaning Kakashi had begun to confuse safety with danger; comfort with pain; relaxation with the sound of razor sharp knives racing towards his neck. Sweeter than whale song.

Yet while Kakashi had never claimed to be sane, he'd managed for 22 years as an active shinobi. For 15 years as a Jounin. Surely that said _something_ about his abilities when so many around him fell?

And so it was that, upon realising his deep sleep had lasted for more than sixteen hours, Kakashi felt entirely justified in his laziness.

Around noon that Saturday he awoke groggily - but infinitely better rested – in a strange, empty bed that smelled faintly of chalk and wine. Burrowing deeply under the covers, encasing himself in the comforting scent, Kakashi discovered that the sweet alcoholic trace was coming from his own skin. And that he couldn't remember leaving Ichiraku. Yet, Iruka's warm scent was strong in the bed and on the pillow – meaning they both must've slept there. Together.

'_In Iruka's bed. I'm in Iruka's_ bed_. Oh fuck, what did I do?'_

Sitting up slowly to avoid potential head rush – and grateful when he found none – Kakashi grinned giddily as he imagined the mischief he might've caused on what must have been an _interesting_ struggle back to Iruka's apartment. To have drunk so little and remember even less, Kakashi's body must've been closer to collapse than he'd realised. A worrying thought.

Hoping that he hadn't done anything inexcusable - _'like what, Hatake? Molest the poor bastard in his sleep?' – _but deciding that he was not above begging if he had (Not even Umino Iruka could resist Kakashi's _puppy eyes no jutsu_), Kakashi considered this new turn of events. Sharing a bed was practically an invitation to grope anyway, as far as the Copy Nin was concerned, so it would serve the teacher right if he had been.

Kakashi, feeling surer about his insecurity, took a quick shower before dressing – he couldn't resist swiping one of Iruka's standard issue sweaters. Leaving a scrawled, barely literate note of thanks on Iruka's bedroom door, Kakashi grinned to himself before grabbing his scrolls and leaving to meet his students, ignoring the slight rush of pity at their endless impatience.

'_Five hours… Meh, I've been later.' _

* * *

**END CHAPTER 3!**

**Hey-Diddle-Diddle**: Your comment is partly the reason for this, I blame you. I mean, _someone_ had to pet him, right?

**Nescione**: Yeah, fangirl central, right here – Thanks for your comment about the introspective, I think Kakashi's such a closed character that it's hard to know if you're pulling him off or just mimicking, glad to know I'm doing alright for someone XD.

**Isolde1**: XD thank you! And how could I not make use of Iruka-sensei's lungs? Erm…

**Fuhrer**: Thank you! Yeah, Kakashi's efficiency…I guess I think there's something more screwed up about him _almost_ caring than if he didn't care at all… I find Gai difficult to write, but if you know he's there you don't need to _read_ what he's saying to know he's _not_ shutting up. The beauty of his character! Thank you for the nit-picking!

**WinterOfOurDiscontent**: I'm so glad you liked the Jiraiya- Kakashi interaction. The way I figure, parallels in literature have a reason. There's just no doubt in my mind that the line of Hokages – from the First through to team 7 – is as close to family as the Naruto series portrays anyone. (Orochimaru's teen-angst rebellion included). So Thank You!

**Faith b: **You say such pretty things, can I keep you? I'm trying to branch out; I'm kind of putting myself in a writing situation that I'd usually avoid – namely fight sequences, ensemble stuff, humour, that kind of thing – so I'm really grateful for your thoughts on the fight scene XD – As for the kick, I didn't consider that. I cut out loads (because I ramble) and originally that part was about the Sharingan playing Silly Buggers, but hhhmmm…

**Lady Guena**, **Azamiko**, **Blue Tajiri, Paxnirvana**

**Leah: **Thanks again! Yeah, I tried to tighten the disjointed feel up, but then I realised I really liked the kind of cut-scene-feel; I've tried and failed to do that before so thank you for commenting on it! XD I can never seem to make things consistently funny, but life has weird timing, so you never know! Hopefully there's something to latch onto in spite of that! Cheers!


	4. 04

**Notes:** The worst part about plot points are getting to them. Speaking of plot points, on a related note – if you for some reason feel like reviewing (cough/hint/cough) are there any suggestions for dog names?

**A huge thanks to everyone who's been reading – you have no idea how much all your comments have meant, especially coming from so many great writers in the fandom. As ever, scroll down!**

(…and cheers to Azamiko, though now I feel reeaaalllly dumb, hehe!)

(Also to Nezuko – I've changed a few choice phrases to make Ibiki less… old!)

* * *

The two shinobi progressed slowly along the dark street, the humid air stifling and seeming to send the consumed sake straight to Kakashi's head. Leaning heavily on Iruka, his numb legs and inhibited balance only served to hinder their movement further, until the young sensei was practically dragging the elite Jounin along.

At one point, Kakashi dropped his scrolls, falling to his knees immediately, scrambling to gather them up. Iruka, shocked through to his very _skin_,leant in to help his desperate friend – only to receive a harsh slap to the knuckle when he bent down to touch hand to paper. This Kakashi, at least, was one that Iruka knew. Trying to maintain precious control. Though difficult to handle, and potentially dangerous in his inebriated state, _this_ Kakashi was still more welcome than the lost little boy Iruka had encountered minutes ago in Ichiraku.

Clutching the scrolls to his chest, Kakashi allowed Iruka's arm to tighten around his waist – even dared to stumble carefully, landing his face comfortably in the curve of the academy teacher's neck. Iruka's startled jolt was _so_ worth it, and Kakashi, taking it as a permissive gesture, began to nuzzle, nipping clumsily at the tanned skin found beneath the uniform's collar.

Iruka, torn between concern and mortification, half dragged Kakashi to an apartment which _definitely _didn't belong to the Sharingan user. Depositing the worn out Copy Nin _on his bed_, the Chuunin moved to leave the room.

"Don't -" Kakashi's soft voice was as close to pleading as Iruka had ever heard it. "- Don't go – stay. Just stay."

Within seconds of Iruka crawling into the bed, Kakashi had grabbed him, falling into a deep sleep.

x

Iruka woke early that Saturday, finding himself pressed snugly up against a tight, toned, slim body… unyielding, unconscious, smelling strongly of – _Oh my sweet fuck it's Kakashi!_

Literally bounding from the warm bed, Iruka narrowly missed braining himself on the bedside cabinet. Kakashi, dead to the world, merely shifted a little in his sleep, brow creasing as he burrowed slightly into the pillows, whimpering mindlessly at the loss of heat.

Iruka smiled at the sight before gently wrapping the rudely stolen covers back around Kakashi's sleeping form. Oh man, did he ever have it bad! Hatake Kakashi was a killer. The famous Copy Nin – and yet…

_Just admit it_ – Even exhausted, beaten, sleeping, with sweaty hair clumping on the pillow, dry bitten lip looking swollen and raw, the brightness of his mouth making his pale skin look sickly – even like that, Kakashi was stunning. Iruka felt guilty for thinking of his friend in such a way, there was so much wrong with it. Although shinobi villages rarely judged by gender, kink or species, Konoha was adamant in looking after it's own – meaning that to screw with the feelings of friend without direct orders was perhaps the only taboo ninja gave any mind to.

Iruka's grin faded as he recalled the state his friend had been in last night, combined with the surprising lack of response from Iruka's movement - and he busied himself cleaning up, buying time until his mid-morning shift in the mission room.

* * *

Gathered around a multitude of maps, graphs and strategy diagrams, the elite strategists of Konoha's ANBU teams desperately tried to find a pattern in the ambushes of the last few months. It had gotten so much worse. Flat out threats of war were seeping through and after seeing the state of several ANBU operatives upon their return to Konoha, you didn't have to be a strategic genius to know that things were getting way out of hand.

Jiraiya watched appreciatively as Tsunade's deceptively youthful form bounced around the central table. From his lounging spot on the floor by a wall, the Toad Hermit was blissfully left out of the majority of the meeting – strategy was _so_ not his thing. Just get him into the battle, adrenaline and blood rushing through his veins. Jiraiya had lived too long and seen too much to actually _want_ to fight, but he knew without a doubt that he was _damn_ good at it. He had worked so hard and long to become what he had – not possessing the genius qualities of Orochimaru or the powerful lineage of Tsunade, Jiraiya had constantly _fought _throughout his life.

To be the best, to be the survivor, to be the protector of those people that couldn't protect themselves. But on his _own _terms.

He'd never wanted the restrictions that came with power – with leadership - and so had adamantly refused the title of Hokage. He preferred to watch those he was fond of turn into those he respected, to watch them make their own decisions – sometimes with a necessary poke or prod in the right direction – until they were ready to fight as well, for what they _believed_ in, rather than what they were _told_.

Perhaps it was these qualities that made him so fond of the Hatake brat. The cold little boy who had tripped upon his beliefs as all he held dear was slowly stripped away, to become a man who valued his team-mates above all things. His father, Hatake Sakumo, had always been fantastically compassionate, effortlessly gracefully, terrifyingly strong; until the end, at least. The White Fang and the Toad Hermit had been brothers in arms for the longest time, to the point where, when Orochimaru had first begun to delve deeply into forces he could barely control, Sakumo had become an unofficial Sannin, teaming up often with Jiraiya and Tsunade on the missions Sandaime had been too worried to send Orochimaru on. Perhaps that had been the White Fang's downfall, in the end. So used to a team that would _find a way_ he eventually forgot how unusual it was to survive.

Too often now it seemed that history was repeating itself. Team 7 would, without doubt, continue the legacy of the Sannin; but it would be fascinating to see where their Sharingan wielding teacher fit into the scheme of things. He had been too influenced by Yondaime to ever take on Sandaime's mantle - but then, Jiraiya recalled, Kakashi and Sandaime also shared some _interesting_ parallels. It had, after all, been the Toad Sannin to teach them both the _Escape by Penetration_ technique.

Jiraiya smiled at the memory, causing Tsunade to give him a withering look. _'Angry… cute.'_

Kakashi though… Kakashi seemed still to struggle with his heritage. There was _power_ there, raw and unused, and Jiraiya _knew _without a doubt that Kakashi wasn't letting on _half_ of what he knew. Jiraiya hardly blamed the kid, though. Sakumo's behaviour at the end – insanity or no – had been disgusting. Cowardly. To leave your seven year old _child_ to a war-torn world. To allow your seven year old _child_ to face life in its entirety, alone.

Orphaning a boy at any time meant forcing him to deal with fears of the dark, of bullies, of fire, of vegetables, of pain, of girls. Orphaning a shinobi in a time of war meant forcing him to deal with guilt, murder, injury, training, legacy and fear. Alone. Kakashi as a child had been frightening to watch. Nothing so young should have been _so_ deadly. Jiraiya often wondered what the Fourth – being so much closer to the boy than he ever could be – saw when he looked down into those dark, numb eyes.

Heaving a deep sigh and cursing himself for such sentimentality, Jiraiya half-listened as the group of shinobi in front of him tossed out plan after plan to defend the village. It seemed as though there was only one option, the Bad Option. The one that nobody wanted to consider. During the Third Secret War, against the Stone, the only thing that had given the Hidden Leaf any kind of edge had become a habit of lining the entire forest with shinobi, waiting for the enemy to attack and then completely obliterating them in short, sharp bursts. The Leaf fatality was appallingly high. They had soon become so desperate that fresh shinobi like six-year-old Hatake Kakashi had slipped quickly up the ranks.

If these marvellous strategists could find no idea better than ambushing ambushers, Konoha was in trouble.

* * *

On the second day of Kakashi's mission – a day since Team 7 had discovered its existence thanks to Team Gai – his students were sparring in one of the smaller training grounds. They'd decided that without their lazy instructor getting in the way it wasn't implausible that they could actually work on some techniques for a change – rather than their usual routine of waiting for the better part of the morning for their questionable teacher to show up, and then spending the next few hours trying to decode his instructions to full coherency before they could actually _do_ anything with them.

So it was to their absolute shock when, at 10am exactly, Morino Ibiki appeared in a puff of smoke directly in front of Sasuke, shoving three thin manila folders into his arms before trudging off in the opposite direction - mumbling angrily about not being paid enough to play 'gopher' for brown-nosing Jounin who didn't _deserve_ to be in his face-space anyway!

Opening the top-most file, Sasuke turned to his team-mates, eyebrow raised in disbelief. "There's only one piece of paper…"

"Read it, idiot!" Naruto's shout was expected, and Sasuke didn't even flinch as he complied with the blonde's request.

Within the folders were three almost identical, official-looking mission briefings; written clearly in what appeared to be Kakashi's usually scrawled handwriting.

_**Exercise Reference Code:** Ht6026-07. (2 of 3.)  
__**Class:** Unclassified/T ('mid-Risk' Training Operation.)  
__**Date of Play**: Tues 23th –Thurs 25th April – 72 hours full.  
__**Assigned Operative: **Haruno Sakura  
__**Control Operative:** Hatake Kakashi_

_**Briefing**: Gather information on any shinobi of your choice – at or above Chuunin level.  
__Remain in visual contact with target for 72 hours.  
__Present all information relevant to the briefing to Control Operative upon return.  
__No Written Record may be kept. Abort if discovered at risk. Do not confer results.  
__  
PS: Back no later than Friday.  
__Two questions left, Sakura!_

The bottom of the page was stamped and signed, oddly, with a heno-heno-moheji figure. Recognising the style from the jackets of his teacher's nin-dogs, Sasuke couldn't help but grin very slightly at the well-known pun. The insanity of his team-mates was comforting, and the Uchiha heir felt a familiar wave of gratitude that they would welcome him back so eagerly after all he'd done in the last three years.

Handing each folder to its owner, Sasuke and his team mates pored over each paper – looking for the pointed discrepancies that would signal a code or possible interpretation of the orders given. Naruto, oddly silent, carefully read every word.

Kakashi was very good at figuring people out, and they wouldn't have put it past the masked shinobi to have created a different task for each of them between the lines of the given brief. Aware of the 'no conferring' rule, the three shinobi remained in pointed silence, wary of being watched. There could be no team-work clause in this particular brief, as they were each assigned to _choose_ different targets, and information was less reliable when collected in groups.

The only real differences between the documents had been the added postscript on Sakura's file, and – for some unfathomable reason – the words 'No written records' had been underlined on all but Naruto's documents. It could've just been that Kakashi had written the blonde's briefing (3 of 3) last, and so simply forgotten to re-check the formatting – but Kakashi was attentive to his mind-games in a way he attended to little else – and outside of a mission his students, perhaps wisely, did not trust the Copy Nin for a second.

For Hatake Kakashi's notorious three, the exercise was far more difficult than it had at first appeared. Subtlety, tracking and memory were the important focus areas for this particular assignment – and Kakashi's convenient exclusion of any definable brief meant they were basically expected to remember enough information about their targets to answer any questions the Copy Nin might chance to have upon his return. Knowing their teacher, and resigned to their luck; the students had no doubt the question would be a stupid one.

x

Uchiha Sasuke, craving the challenge, picked Jiraiya – assuming that his training by Orochimaru would fair the young shinobi well against such a formidable target. In the 72 hour time span, the Uchiha's position was compromised seven times. The most memorable case being on the second day, when Jiraiya had physically reached into the shinobi's hiding place – a nearby bush – to drag the boy out by the scruff of his neck. Performing an advanced _Henge_ by instinct, Sasuke was shocked when Jiraiya merely scoffed before dropping the boy to the floor.

"Hmph. Typical. Only _you_ would be arrogant enough to believe you could follow _me_ around without notice. Have I taught you _nothing?_" Jiraiya looked down at Naruto's stunned form, carrying on before the brat could muster enough rage to recover from his shocked silence. "Did it even occur to you idiots that Tsunade would _never_ agree to such a perverted exercise without a little per_sua_sion from _me? _Huh?" Jiraiya manufactured a particularly obscene finger waggle as he briefly paused. "Poor Kakashi! Even _after_ the Sannin themselves make you into _wonderfully _powerful shinobi, he stills ends up lumped with babysitting brats!"

And then, before Sasuke could remember that he was supposed to be acting like Naruto, Jiraiya had disappeared with only the lingering hint of sulphur to prove he'd ever been there.

The Uchiha reverted to his original form, still in shock. Had Kakashi-sensei _really_ convinced the legendary Frog Hermit, the Sannin himself, to help justify a silly little training exercise? How could that be? The Jounin teachers were selected due to their efficiency in teaching the rules of the shinobi lifestyle. Being the tool of your village should not involve convincing your superior to act as your go-between for matters of such little significance to the Leaf. Sasuke bristled. How could Kakashi get _away_ with that? Unless their Jounin Sensei was more than just a Jounin Sensei?

Sasuke got to feet and brushed himself off determinedly. Kakashi was losing his touch, according to the rumours, there was no way this kind of mission could be a difficult as it seemed. He just needed to figure out the loop hole. After all, Uchiha Sasuke would _not_ lose to Uzumaki Naruto.

x

Haruno Sakura had better luck with her target.

She had, on the 30th hour, been reprimanded by Tsunade for following Shizune around so devotedly, but had managed to convince her instructor that shadowing Shizune was the perfect opportunity for the young medic to see how other methods of practising. Tsunade's secretive smile was pleased, proud - though discomforting, but Sakura's priority was to shadow her target, and she was wary of wasting her time.

Shizune, though adorable, was clueless. And, as Sakura's inner monologue so frequently supplied, incredibly boring! On the final day of her shadowing, Shizune was ambushed by several other high-level Konoichis and all but dragged to the tea shop opposite Ichiraku's. Listening to Anko-san and Kurenai-sensei gossip shamelessly (and heatedly) for almost four solid hours, Sakura began to wish she had chosen one of them. Never had this wish been so strong as, when Shizune finally parted with the other shinobi, their conversation turned to Kakashi, and the rumours surrounding him.

One interesting thing she _had_ learned that day, and Sakura would be sure to report it to Ino-Pig later on, was that there had been very few simple missions lately. Only the essential or highly paid missions had been approved and in the last few weeks it had not become uncommon for shinobi of a more advanced rank to perform lower level missions. More recently, or so Sakura heard, pairs of shinobi had been sent on what should have been solo missions. And no-one had an answer for the reason so much ability was being put to waste.

Had it not been for the deep concern in the Jounins' expressions, Sakura would have waved it off.

x

Uzumaki Naruto was not _good_ at subtlety. The ability to tread carefully, to think strategically anywhere outside the heat of battle totally evaded the blonde shinobi. Lucky then, that one of Naruto's greatest strengths was knowing a good thing when he saw it. During the three days of close surveillance, the Kyuubi vessel had been treated to twelve bowls of Ichiraku's finest ramen; two allowances into his target's own home; one opportunity to search through his target's cupboards; and endless chances to bitch about his lazy teacher. The most interesting of those opportunities had been on the last day of his mission, in the middle of his favourite sensei's classroom, leading to a comfortingly nostalgic, grade-A ear shattering, Scream Of Imminent Death.

When he wasn't in close range communication with his target, Naruto took the opportunity to gather as much photographic evidence as possible, using one of Jiraiya's cameras. The beauty, he decided, of having an unabashed super-pervert as one of his teachers, was the endless supply of high-speed, stealthy, flashless, noiseless surveillance equipment at his disposal. (However questionable Naruto's subtlety was, the young kitsune had an uncanny efficiency when it came to blackmail, and, much to the ire of his ero-sensei, many means by which to gain an audience with the Hokage.)

Naruto had checked the information on Kakashi's mission report with a rare sort of commitment, and nowhere did it imply that the target could not be contacted, or that photographic evidence was unacceptable. Naruto was careful to write nothing down, but it would've just been foolish to miss this _obvious_ chance to be spoiled by Iruka-sensei.

* * *

That Saturday, already five hours late meeting his team, already aching after his walk in the stifling summer heat, Kakashi found himself at the monument. Again. Kakashi had lost many people in his life, precious or otherwise, and he was known by his friends and closest comrades to remember each of them daily.

They were wrong.

Of all the people Kakashi had ever lost, he only paid regular visits to four of them. He would visit Rin on anniversaries – her passing, her parents' passing, her birthday, White Day. He never stayed long, just long enough to play those last horrific moments of her life in his mind's imaginative eye. To remember the final promise she'd made to him, seeming so unnecessary now.

Yondaime, his sensei, he visited more often. Whenever he felt most keenly the absence of his teacher's guidance. Whenever Naruto began to lecture his team-mates about friendship, and Kakashi had to excuse himself hastily lest he pummel the poor blonde for _daring_ to live up to their many forgotten expectations. Whenever the Copy Nin did something stupid, which was often. Whenever he did something to make his teacher proud, which happened much less.

Kakashi always spared a passing glance at Sandaime's name; the obligatory '_Yo, Old Man' _often slipped from his masked lips. Kakashi enjoyed paying the Third Hokage his compliments; there was no pain to the old man's death which the Copy Nin felt the need to hide from. Just a calm love for his people, after a long, proud life.

Uchiha Obito was visited every day. Kakashi didn't do it for the guilt – though he did relive those horrible decisions each time he heard his comrade's name. Kakashi and Obito, however much they had argued, however vicious their rivalry, had been family. They had depended on one another the same way Naruto and Sasuke depended on each other now. The name calling, the sparring, the one-upmanship - everything was a testament to the complicated sense of brotherhood of the Uchiha Runt and the Hatake Brat.

Their total opposition in every aspect of their lives had forged a common, unshakeable bond, and Kakashi missed it desperately. Kakashi's orphaned isolation compared painfully to Obito's large, proud clan; Kakashi's discipline and refusal to care contrasted starkly to Obito's compassion and unwillingness to fight. Even their appearances complimented perfectly – covered eyes and dark hair to grey tufts and hidden face. See no evil, speak no evil. It was interesting then, that Rin had always been the one to listen.

Obito had not been perfect by any means, and Kakashi refused to slur his memory by idealising the loud, obnoxious, fearful boy; but he didn't stop mourning. Because to stop mourning would be to lay Obito to rest, and how could he lay to rest the very things that made him what he was today? Kakashi would not stop mourning, if only to remind himself of all he'd lost that hateful day (his friend; his rival; his conscience; his ever fading innocence; his blind confidence; his faith) and all that he had gained (compassion; belonging; power; trust; self-worth). Obito had given Kakashi many gifts, Kakashi strived to return the favour, by living up to that beloved idiot's dream for as long as he could – to be a shinobi who could succeed in both mission and compassion.

So Kakashi _had_ to visit Obito, because he _had_ to keep the boy alive. If he were to move on from that death so much of what he had become would be without foundation. Without foundation, Kakashi would crumble.

He smiled as he traced his fingers across countless beloved names.

His students were waiting.

* * *

Said students _were _waiting - impatiently - at their usual meeting spot. It had been five and a half long hours since their arranged meeting time, and they were extremely conscious of what it meant to be late back from a mission that no-one had really been informed about. Gradually, as the hours wore on, lunch time had edged closer, and now all three shinobi had grown restless.

"We should just _leave_. Go train or _something_!" Sakura's voice had grown much clearer since their childhood, stronger somehow.

"That bastard said he'd be back. I'm not moving until he shows up – the lazy idiot, making us wait! _Torturing_ us with stupidly ambiguous missions and then being LATE! AGAIN!"

Naruto fumed as always, Sasuke grunted as always, Kakashi was late, as always – and Sakura simply leant forward on the railing of the bridge, watching as her sensei's masked face reflected in the ripples below, sending a familiar wave of – wait – what?

"Yo!" Kakashi had a mental list of favourite faces – he would spend hours trying to tease certain expressions from his acquaintances and friends – desperate to get a just a _certain shade_ of mortification on Iruka's face; or a _particular_ dreamy look of abso_lute _perversion on Jiraiya's. Of the many expressions that they pulled daily, the best one his students had, Kakashi decided, was _that exact_ mix of shock and fury on their cute little faces _every single time_ he popped up unexpectedly. And they still didn't get it!

"YOU'RE LATE!" Was it him, or was Sakura's scream extra high pitched today?

"Sorry, I was in a deep trance, meditating the meaning of -"

"_LIAR!"_

"– compassion." Kakashi grinned, finishing his sentence with a flourish, and – the Copy Nin almost fell from his perch – Uchiha Sasuke smiled slightly in reply. Jumping down neatly, slouching as soon as his feet touch the ground, Kakashi nonchalantly held one hand to Sasuke's forehead.

"Hn. There seems to be no fever..." their teacher look deadly serious at the confused expressions on the faces surrounding him. "Don't smile, Sasuke. It's just freaky."

Naruto grinned brightly as Sasuke practically spluttered. Not waiting for their bickering match to start, Kakashi turned to the pink-haired medic. "You got your questions yet?"

"I think so sensei, give me a few days more."

Kakashi nodded, grinning, and Sakura felt that strange warmth that could only come from surpassing one of the Jounin's expectations. His reply was oddly respectful. "Take as long as you need, Sakura-chan."

Unable to fully suppress a yawn, Kakashi noted the quickly exchanged series of glance-and-nod between his students. The silent communication was an encouraging testament to their improving team mind set, but directed at their teacher, it was just plain disconcerting.

"How was your mission, Kakashi-Sensei?" Sasuke's voice was low, tone neutral, respectful. Against such enticement Kakashi couldn't help the sardonic laugh.

"Interesting, but classified. If you want any information you'll have to use a question…" Kakashi's sing-song tone ruffled Naruto, his brow creasing before his face broke into a fox-like grin. In fact, all three students' looked oddly relieved at his teasing, and Kakashi wondered if he truly _had_ lost his touch.

Wait. Relieved? _'No way!'_

"Maa… How to put this…" Naruto, Sakura and Sasuke leaned in. "You're all crazy; you all look guilty. What did you break while I was away?"

A huff of laughter from Sasuke. "Only our minds and dignity."

"Excellent, you must've got my note." Two agonised twitches told Kakashi he had put them back on edge, and the Copy Nin immediately felt far more in control. "Follow me."

Kakashi had already begun to stroll back towards the village proper, Sakura quickly catching up. After a few minutes the boys were circling their teacher as he moved, alternating between insults, accusations and questioning suggestions to their teacher, thrown quicker than even his Sharingan could easily dissect.

Infinitely amused, Kakashi walked on.

* * *

A full hour since the end of the meeting, and Tsunade sat on the floor next to Jiraiya in the conference room. Back against the wall, her blonde head resting on his broad shoulder, the Hokage let out a sigh.

"We're fucked, Jiji." They both stared off into some distance spot, betrayed by their own memories. "There's nothing else we can do."

"The kids who survived last time, they won't like this. Not at all." Jiraiya's voice was searching. "Maybe they need to have a say in this."

"You mean Kakashi, don't you? Ibiki? Kids like that…" Another heavy sigh. "You're right of course, they lived through it, and if nothing else they might remember a few modifications to better exercise the strategy."

"You sound like Sandaime-sensei." Jiraiya sounded amused, fond. That sweet tone of voice Tsunade had never really registered as a young shinobi, but was coming to depend upon.

"Do you think…Do you think it'll be as bad as last time? Do you think the kids'll be alright?" Tsunade didn't bother to hide her distress, not from her oldest friend. This perverted man who somehow knew her best.

"You sound like Yondaime-gaki." Jiraiya smiled nostalgically, resting his cheek against her hair. "If we protect them, they'll be just fine. Trust me."

"I trust you, Old Man."

* * *

Eventually, Kakashi stopped outside a quiet little café, slumping gratefully onto one of the soft chairs surrounding the outside tables. Suppressing a relieved sigh – he didn't realise how much merely _walking_ would take out of him so soon after his mission – Kakashi gestured to his brats to sit also. They did. Though warily.

A few minutes silence had all three shifting uncomfortably - they had never been so obviously under the scrutiny of their sensei outside of the training grounds – and Kakashi made the most of ordering tea for them all and one of the café's _special desserts_, asking the waiter to take his time.

"Well, what have you got for me?"

The Copy Nin struggled to keep an impassive look on his masked face, though his team no doubt knew how much joy he'd taken from getting that _particular_ assignment agreed to. As he forced them to go through – in great detail – the issues they'd faced in shadowing their targets, the reasons they'd chosen who they had, the students had been surprised when the obvious amusement at their expense had turned slowly into a contemplative look usually reserved for his missions.

After hearing each of their methods – and mentally grading them, as ever – it was clear that in terms of style and ability Sasuke was more suited to shadowing work. Naruto's infiltration, however, seemed superb.

"Hmm. I don't recall giving you a detailed briefing…" Kakashi narrowed his visible eye. "What was your target wearing and doing at 9am Wednesday morning?"

It took several seconds for the question to fully register, and Kakashi got that furious look again. As even Sasuke's face visibly fell, Kakashi, smirking began to explain his point

"When shadowing or gathering information, you must fully understand your brief." Kakashi's rarely used 'Shinobi-Tone' cut through the devastated silence "If you have any insecurity regarding the evidence you need to find, the results can be disastrous. Without a focal point, the mission is pointless unless you know how to cover your bases. The only way to expose yourself to _everything_ is to live in your target's pocket. You don't have to keep a distance to be a convincing shadow. Can any of you answer my question?"

Naruto's eyes lit up, and he dug around in his pockets for several moments before pulling out a wad of photographs. Kakashi didn't bother to train his shocked expression.

"What's this?" Kakashi started flicking through the images. Iruka walking, Iruka eating, Iruka cleaning, Iruka sleeping, Iruka teaching, Iruka yelling, Iruka blushing, Iruka marking papers, Iruka reading, Iruka opening a drawer… Kakashi caught his breath slightly.

"You said we couldn't write anything down, but I didn't want to forget anything, so I took photos!"

"Dobe! Who said you could _take photos!" _Sasuke's scolding hiss jolted Kakashi from his thoughts.

"Bastard! Nobody said that I _couldn't!" _Naruto's offended hiss was more of shout.

"Naruto, Sasuke, shut up." They quietened immediately and the waiter finally returned with four cups of spicy tea and an enormous bowl of sweet fruits and ice cream. Kakashi thanked the waiter and turned back to his students, mouths now slightly watering at the sight of the luscious dessert. "My brief was very precise, Sasuke. Although you performed admirably, you shouldn't jump in so quickly. Jiraiya-sama thought your impression of Naruto was an _excellent_ touch." The Uchiha heir had the decency to look mollified.

"Sakura, your justification to Tsunade-sama was flawless, but you should be more subtle. Kurenai-sensei noticed you at the café, perhaps it would've been more convincing if you'd roped some more friends in? Don't be above using what's in front of you." Sakura looked pleased, if confused slightly.

"Naruto, congratulations. You passed this exercise most efficiently. You are aware enough of your weaknesses to work around them; however I want you to work on your stealth abilities. Your luck may one day run out, and all you'll be left with is your skill." Kakashi's pleased smirk soothed away Naruto's automatic bristle at the jibe; he was soothed further still as Kakashi pushed the _incredible_ ice-cream in his direction.

"Drink your tea." Kakashi ignored their gaping faces as he pulled a tattered copy of _Come Come Paradise _from a pocket. "It'll fend off this heat."

* * *

Two days later, Kakashi was standing amongst a collective of his oldest comrades. Each shinobi in the room had been devastated by the Third Secret War – meaning that they had fought in and survived it. Morino Ibiki inched his way across the room to the Copy Nin, and leant in conspiratorially. Kakashi was amused to notice many other ninja operatives acting the same.

"Makes me feel very strange, being without my subordinates." The scarred interrogation expert whispered.

"Mmm. And without the rest of the Elite. It's easy to forget that we were so young." Kakashi felt strangely on edge without the comforting companionship of his team-mates, most of whom had barely been Gennin graduates while he was fighting as a Jounin shinobi in the war with Stone. Ibiki shook his head in disbelief, not bothering to pretend he hadn't also noticed the common link of each ninja there.

"Idiot, _you_ were the only Jounin of our age. The bar may have been lowered to bring soldiers through, but you forget your youth, Hatake. I hadn't even made _Chuunin _when they pulled me in, I can't think why I'd be here at all, apart from - " All the shinobi hushed as two of the legendary Sannin entered the room. If it had not been for the tense look on their leader's face, Ibiki would've carried on.

"Shinobi of Konoha, you have been gathered here for a specific reason, as you have no doubt begun to work out." Tsunade paused, taking a deep breath. The shinobi in the room tensed.

"I won't bother to hide from you the gravity of the situation. We are close to war. Many of you are aware of the series of threats and ambushes gradually escalating in these past months. Konohagure has since received open declarations of war. We wish to avoid open combat for as long as possible. As successful field-operatives of the Third Secret War, we ask each of you to take a copy of this file -" The Godaime Hokage held up a thick folder. "- containing the brief and proposed strategy. I urge each of you to make _any_ amendments you feel are appropriate, and return the signed, amended copy back to me as soon as is possible."

The silence of the room was hot. Kakashi felt his mouth dry in something akin to resignation, wondering how this threat could be compared to the war that had ripped so much of his life away from him during his teenage years. Perhaps that was the point, he thought, to bring these injured soldiers together, to make them relive their regrets in the hopes to avoid making the same mistakes again. Whatever the reason, it was a brilliantly effective strategy. The nervous, breathless heat hardened. The shinobi in this room had been chosen for their strong survival instincts. They would perfect this strategy, whatever it was.

"That is all shinobi. You are dismissed."

* * *

**END CHAPTER 4!**

**x**

**Nezuko:** Firstly: I'm SO SORRY! I swear if I get anywhere NEAR your ideas, tell me and I'll stop writing forever, your stories are too _too_ addictive for one mangled plot bunny to steal them away, .… secondly, for your comments: Thank you so much, and as far as the mutual appreciation goes, I bow at your pretty yet kinda evil feet XD

**Terra-lilly:** thank you! I was worried about the chapter length, I can't seem to find places to _cut_, everything's so intertwined. Glad you're enjoying it!

**Hey-Diddle-Diddle: **XD cheers! It's always nice to have a scapegoat 3

**Isolde1:** There might not be Tsunade punching any time soon, but there's something on the horizon…

**Paxnirvana: **I have it bad for ANBU, but I also have a thing for grit –thus, gritty ANBU. And I think I've ranted enough about Jiraiya and the goodness there of. Thank you so much for your comments and pointers - hope this didn't disappoint!

**Irukasensei22: **thank you! I find so many of the characters really interesting. Can't help but think how much more screwed up they'd be if it was an adult-oriented show… Can't help but play with that, really!

**Celestral Moon:** lol, no hints needed. It may not be perfect, but it's definitely veering that way. Friendship is such a useful tool….

**Sna:** what can I say? Firstly, thank you so much for giving my story a chance despite the yaoi – if it's any consolation, if this has anything graphic at all – be it yaoi or het - it _will_ be for a purpose. Heehee, what you mention about Kakashi's views… that'll be explained eventually, maybe. But probably not now that I know it's been noticed! Thanks a lot! XD (I just wanted to mention, your story '_Delicate' _partly inspired one of the more intense (at least I hope so) sections coming in a few chapters or so… I wanted to mention it and thank you, although I read that fiction a while ago, it was really impressive on how I view Kakashi now!)

**DarkLadyErisa:** Thank you so much for your comments! When I started reading the series, I thought "Heh, Naruto's teacher's only twenty-six. Hot." Then I started thinking "Holy shit, Naruto's teacher's _only_ twenty-six." As for the breaking… I promise nothing. XD

Thanks also to **Shake-it-buddy, Iceheart19,** **Blue tajiri, KoHakuuRiver, eyes0nme19**


	5. 05

**Notes:** Experiments in making people break. And making people kiss. And making people break some more.

**Thanks to everyone who's read/reviewed! Scroll down!**

Have gone back and sort of fixed timelines- particularly Ibiki's. (_stupid git not being as random as he should've_.) if you're now thinking wondering what's changed, it's literally just time. If you don't want to go back and re-read, I've pasted the biggest change below. Ibiki will still do what Ibiki was supposed to do, except now I have to find a more interesting way to make him do it.

"_Idiot, you were the only Jounin of our age. The bar may have been lowered to bring soldiers through, but you forget your youth, Hatake. I hadn't even made Chuunin, I can't think why I'd be here apart from - " All the shinobi hushed as two of the legendary Sannin entered the room. If it had not been for the tense look on their leader's face, Ibiki would've carried on._

Mwuahahahaha! Back story.

* * *

It was at once better and worse than Tsunade could have hoped.

The amended reports had come back in record time; the last one had been on her desk earlier that morning, only two days after the meeting she had called. The elite strategists had been coding the files; logging up the references, the suggestions, the repetitions – personal experiences were good, but Tsunade refused to hinder her shinobi further by trusting anything that had not aided at least three separate incidents. What worked for one shinobi could kill another, and Tsunade had grown far more attached to her village than she thought she could.

There had been nothing encroaching on Konoha's borders since the last ANBU squad's return three days ago, and yet something was coming. Tsunade knew it in the same way she knew Naruto would be her successor; the cards had been dealt and her hand sucked.

She had seen the surviving shinobi (just babies back then) of the Third Secret War gathering round in groups to work on these amendments. She had spotted the older shinobi hunched around café tables, exchanging stories of _back in the day_. She had seen the surviving Hyuugas from those days excluding the world as they dictated their experiences to lesser beings. She had seen the younger ones, Kakashi, Gai, Raidou, and a few others, lounging around the ramen stand, or the training fields, seeming far more relaxed in their reminiscing – which to Tsunade suggested nothing but unhealed scars.

Shizune burst into her office, clutching a familiar looking scroll wrapped around a smaller roll of notes.

"Hatake-san asked me to give this to you, said something about training his dogs to plait hair as a birthday present to Sakura-chan?" Tsunade's ebony haired assistant looked harassed, confused, and the Godaime Hokage took the scrolls from her with a smirk, wondering what Kakashi had put the poor woman through.

Not saying a word, Tsunade gestured to the couch behind her, and Shizune sunk into it gracelessly. Stretching the notes across her desk revealed not just the translation, but a marked map, seemingly hand-drawn and labelled in great detail. Apparently, Kakashi had drawn out the enemy shinobi's plans as well as translated their notes.

"_That_ lazy fuck?"

Tsunade had never understood why her predecessors had been so fond of Hatake Kakashi, or why Jiraiya looked at him as family rather than a soldier. She had appreciated his record and efficiency, but always assumed somehow that dumb luck played an enormous part in what he did in the field. Tsunade adored the boy, but never in quite the same way as those around her.

Maybe she'd need to keep a better eye out.

* * *

Iruka hadn't seen Kakashi since Saturday, and however ridiculous and paranoid he was _sure_ he was being, the fact remained that he was missing a jumper, and had found Kakashi's lying on his bathroom floor.

It was – well. Distracting wasn't even the _word_ for what it was. Was Iruka really overreacting about what _taking a friend's jumper_ implied about the intimacy of their relationship? The older Jounin hadn't even _asked_! And now his teaching was suffering for it! Nayami-chan, this year's most confident trouble-maker, had escaped from Iruka's classroom at least twice this week.

Wednesday finally rolled around, and as Iruka trudged worriedly home to his apartment –after a _very_ troublesome day – he was both relieved and startled to find none other than Hatake Kakashi leaning casually against his doorframe, waiting for Iruka. '_Hm. Kakashi, waiting for a change? I've cracked. I'm obviously hallucinating!'_

That relief soon gave way to fury as three days worth of pent up paranoia suddenly hit – the younger sensei was barely able to growl out an offer of tea in a shambolic attempt to remain calm. Seemingly oblivious to Iruka's tense rage, Kakashi cheerfully accepted, stepping into the apartment and plonking himself down on a chair in the kitchenette, tapping some irritating tune on the table top.

"I thought I'd return your uniform, Iruka-kun," Kakashi grinned delightedly as his friend turned a most interesting shade of burgundy. "And I wanted to apologise for my behaviour last Friday night."

Kakashi's unique system for getting a rise out of Iruka was to alternate between offending the young teacher and pleasing him soon after, until the patient academy teacher could no longer maintain his false politeness and would begin to tease Kakashi back. Unfortunately, Iruka's system for dealing with Kakashi was, wherever possible, to actually listen to what the light-haired shinobi said, while totally ignoring the delivery, well aware of the Copy Nin's natural ability to hide the truth within the truth.

"Wait," Iruka turned on Kakashi, irate and concerned and confused and sick of being toyed with. "You want to _apologise?_ Kakashi you were _fucked out of your mind!" _Iruka's voice continued to rise in volume. "I don't entirely know what you had to do on that _stupid_ fucking mission, but you could barely _walk, _let alone be held responsible for -"

"Iruka." Kakashi's voice was deadly quiet in contrast. Cutting through Iruka's ranting speech in a way that made it clear how very much aware the Copy Nin was of eaves-dropping neighbours in the surrounding apartments. A voice that told Iruka to be extremely careful where he trod. "I'd had a lot to drink; I said a lot I shouldn't have. I will not apologise for my actions but I should not have put it all on you."

The potentially sweet apology was ruined by Kakashi's flat, business-like tone, and the emotions Iruka was dealing with were too raw, too new, and could not prevent his hot anger from boiling over.

"Don't you _dare_ tell me that was the _drink_!" Iruka's enraged hiss put the Copy Nin on edge. "I've drunk with you before, Kakashi, and I am well aware that _three_ cups in _two_ hours does _not_ make you literally. Unable. To. Stand!"

Kakashi had no answer. He had no idea why Iruka was so angry. He said nothing.

"The last time I saw you, Kakashi, you were _passed out_ _on my bed, whim_pering because of a _draft_. Tell me with a straight face _that _is the healthy behaviour of an elite Jounin?" Iruka paused - hands clenched into tight fists on his hips, unable to prevent the frustrated tears welling in his eyes - making Kakashi feel for all the world like a naughty school boy. His inner pervert couldn't help but smirk.

"You have _no idea_ how worried I've been! You could've at _least_ stopped by on Saturday to just let me know you hadn't _thrown_ yourself from the top of the monument or something -"

'_Not funny, Iruka…' _Kakashi wasn't sure if he'd said it aloud or not – either way he'd never have managed to squeeze it out loud enough for the Chuunin to hear past the sudden lump in his throat. Despite the Copy Nin's suddenly closed expression, Iruka's tirade continued, louder and wilder by the second. Kakashi's inner pervert finally shut up – Kakashi's inner _everything_ shut up – and he did the only thing he could think of to make the silence complete, without running risk to his physical or mental health.

Kakashi kissed him.

Iruka hadn't even noticed the cloth mask come down, hadn't noticed Kakashi's quick step into personal space, how he'd leant forward, eye half lidded. All he knew was the feel of Kakashi's hard, angry mouth against his, hands that had started cupping his strong jaw dragged fiercely upwards into suddenly loose hair. Iruka didn't think, just yanked at the other man, pulling him closer, clawing back, nipping desperately at that pouting, unresisting bottom lip.

Kakashi broke the kiss, sucking in a stunned breath, before quickly claiming those lips again. Unaware of the effect it had on his dazed partner, Kakashi thrust his tongue past Iruka's lips, not letting the younger man respond, licking the taste right out of his mouth. Something familiar – some recognisable twang – caused Kakashi to tighten his hold, and for a brief heartbeat – _and_ _boy, are they coming fast now _– Kakashi thought he'd maybe found that humanity he been seeking. The thought terrified him, and Kakashi ended the kiss, stepping as far back as he could while still gripping that soft hair. Iruka slowly came out of his daze, leaning closer to the Copy Nin as he chuckled breathlessly.

"I have to go," Kakashi was staring at Iruka's wet lips, "Only came to…erm…give you back…your thing…" Iruka lapped at Kakashi's mouth, swallowing up his responsive moan. Grinning, Iruka let Kakashi go. Let him leave.

It was more than an hour later that Kakashi found the courage to tell Obito his strange news. It was slightly longer than that before Iruka remembered the tea.

* * *

Several days later, Konoha's population seemed still unaware of the latest development in their Copy Nin's love life. It was a surprising thing that so many shinobi were so deluded, but not so much for Ebisu, the Special Jounin teacher of the Sandaime's grandchild, whose need to maintain a respectable reputation often meant his gossiping consisted mainly of eaves-dropping on the conversation of other chatty shinobi and rebuking them thoroughly as a cover, if he were caught.

Konohamaru was hiding from his sensei. Ebisu had been running around searching for the troublemaking young Gennin for a full hour, and with the help of Uzumaki Naruto's new ninjutsu, Sandaime's grandson was faring better than ever before.

Holding up the old camouflage cloth from his Pre-Gennin days, Konohamaru masked his chakra as Naruto-neesan had taught him, and bit his lip to prevent a giggle as Ebisu ran past, flustered. His team's self appointed mission was to retrieve a photo album from the Hokage's office – just to see if they could – as they knew she was briefing the ANBU teams today.

They felt no real guilt over this decision, blaming it entirely on their teacher. They had decided that, really, it had been plain foolish of Ebisu-sensei to _tell_ them she was gone from her rooms, and also that retrieving the album itself was entirely doable so long as Ebisu-sensei concentrated on catching Konohamaru, and not his team-mates, as the Jounin was so wont to do.

To ensure this devotion to chasing the _correct_ young shinobi, Konohamaru paved a wave of destruction worthy of his idol, the great Uzumaki Naruto. It was a wave of destruction that caused Umino Iruka to shudder in recollection of his boisterous ex-student, and fill him with a slight warmth at the reminder of his _own_ Gennin days.

Konohamaru, Iruka decided during his lunch break - as he watched Ebisu run by for the third time in half an hour, a look of utmost dismay across his face - made a _wonderful_ distraction. He tried to avoid wondering what the _real_ prank would be, but figured he'd hear about it on the gossip vine, eventually.

* * *

"You're sure?" Morino Ibiki looked hard at the shinobi in front of him, thankful for the Locust mask that hid his pitying expression.

"Look, how many ANBU missions have I performed lately? It doesn't make sense to have to keep pulling up the same paperwork every time you need an extra knife in the back." Kakashi didn't even bother to put up his usual lazy barriers, just trained one alert, intense eye on the ANBU Locust, who was beginning to wonder just why he'd agreed to cover for Aoba on an ANBU Desk shift. "Just put me back on file. Make _sure_ it's temporary, though, those bastards aren't dragging me in again, you understand?"

"I'll have to get the Elite to agree…"

"They'll agree. You think I haven't spoken to them already? They'll agree."

Ibiki really didn't want to do it. He really didn't want to be the one to countersign the form that would send Kakashi back into the ranks that had nearly destroyed him. He could see his friend's slightly shaking hands, knew the Copy Nin was only offering because of the oncoming war. Because the ANBU would _be_ the front line, and they'd need all the experienced hands they could get. Kakashi was doing himself a favour, really, and the bastard probably knew it - offering his services on _his_ terms before the ANBU Elite could present a far less appealing offer the other way round.

Ibiki tapped something into the screen in front of him before printing off the necessary documentation. Stamping and signing his own parts, he asked Kakashi to read them through carefully.

"Sign here; here; date here. Temps need two 'touch stones' rather than the usual one, new rules. Neither can be 'Squad.'" Ibiki didn't bother to dumb down his words, speaking in a respectful blend of ANBU 'click' terminology and normal speech to the man who had probably been there at the invention of half of it. It was difficult sometimes to think that Kakashi was _so_ young - his own age - and yet _infinitely_ more experienced. "You'll be expected to inform them both yourself, before your first mission."

Kakashi automatically scrawled Jiraiya's name and rank in the first box and, after some quick deliberation, added 'Umino Iruka, Chuunin' to the second. He would need someone, after all, to keep him human.

* * *

Naruto was munching away quite happily on his third bowl of pork ramen, paid for, of course, by Iruka, who was quite happily munching away on his first.

They hadn't seen each other for a full week, and all Naruto could talk about was last Saturday's lesson, where he had not only beaten Sasuke and Sakura at stalking practise (Iruka had given up trying to convince Naruto to called it reconnaissance after the blonde haired boy had explained how the photographic evidence had been a major part in his win) but also been given an amazing desert as a prize. Iruka couldn't help but appreciate Kakashi's teaching methods – to reward the blonde bottomless pit with _food_ at least meant he understood the boy.

Naruto also mentioned some interesting things about the state of their teacher – how he'd been unwilling to teach a practical lesson, favouring instead to go through reconnaissance strategies and ways to improve. He had sat them down in the centre of the café's outside tables, getting them to work into the conversation things they had noticed about the patrons and staff. The three students had seemed to enjoy creating wild codes and information gathering, and Kakashi had apparently seemed pleased with their understanding of the day's lesson.

There was apparently more, but amidst the blonde's angered ranting about Kakashi's ability to drink tea through his mask (_an over-exaggeration,_ _surely,_ thought Iruka, _That_ _would stain_) there was very little information - about what seemed to be an interesting teaching tool – left to be gained.

The subject drifted to Naruto's team, and Iruka asked how Sasuke had been doing, fully aware of the sneers and torments the formerly adored Uchiha heir had been exposed to since his return to Konoha. Iruka also needed to know how Naruto was coping with his rival back home, worried that either boy could be consumed by hate so soon after the last time.

"Sasuke-bastard will get over it. _I_ did, so he'll _have_ to if he's gonna prove he's better than me!" Naruto's response was so typical, and yet somehow made a large amount of sense.

"You think he's as strong as you are, though? Naruto, Sasuke-kun has never had to _deal_ with the villagers' prejudice before now…"

"Then it's lucky he got me on his side." Naruto's voice was much stronger than it had ever been as a child, and Iruka could see, even if Naruto himself could not, the Copy Nin's proud sense of team unity in the way his spoke about his friend, and Iruka's own compassion. It was gratifying, the young teacher thought, to see the best parts of two people reflecting from a well-loved student. "Iruka-sensei, the village can think what it likes about us all! I can't see why anyone thinks it's their business!"

Iruka smiled at that, Naruto's defiance giving everything away. "Didn't you hate him though? Even a little? This village latches on to the rumours it hears…"

"And don't I know it! A lot of the people here still hate me, but I forget sometimes, you know? What with you and Kakashi-lazy-bastard-sensei, Sakura-chan and Sasuke-bastard… If any of _you_ pick on me, it's for a better reason than something I had no say in. But you're right, in a way. About Sasuke. It's a horrible thing, to be hated by this village."

"Well," Iruka was warm with pride, he'd helped teach this boy, he'd helped raise him. He was also more than interested in the quick defence of his 'lazy-bastard-sensei,' but decided that could wait for another day. "Look at the bright side. At least Sasuke is in the same position as you now – if the village doesn't worship him anymore, you can be true rivals!"

Naruto laughed with him, and Iruka finally realised how much the boy had grown.

x

"I've rejoined the ANBU. I've got a mission this weekend." Kakashi's voice had been as cold as his words, and Iruka should have be worried that he was starting to equate the pained, foreboding tone with Kakashi's 'business-voice.'

"…Why are you telling me?"

"It shouldn't last three days - I put you down as a 'touch stone.' If anything should happen, you'll know the truth of it…"

"But why? Why are you telling me?" Iruka's insistence finally dragged out an unwilling response from the Copy Nin, and Iruka felt there was some scab there, that wasn't ready to be picked.

"You're the closest friend I have, Iruka." Kakashi didn't sound _right_ confessing. His voice wasn't suited to being lost, although Iruka knew some amount of his friend's grief. "You're the only really human friend I have."

"You mean besides Mr. Ukki?" A small huff of laughter was the only acknowledgement Iruka received, but joke hadn't been very funny. Just a desperate attempt to rid the room of this chill, this heavy atmosphere.

"They're all perfect shinobi robots, dead men. You're different, somehow."

"Kakashi…" Iruka had been touched, struck, moved to pity, before becoming aware suddenly; of what Kakashi's expressive hands had been trying to hide. "Your hands are shaking!" Iruka grabbed at Kakashi's hands, pulled them into his, held them against his chest.

"I'm just cold. I feel cold." The rush of déjà vu at the familiar, blatant lie made Iruka gasp in sudden fear. He pulled the masked Jounin into a strong embrace, feeling faintly ridiculous for hugging the other man. Kakashi stiffened for a moment before relaxing affectedly, and it occurred to Iruka how starved for affection this man must've been – even Iruka knew how to shrug off an unwanted hug.

For a long time they simply stood there, Iruka grasping his friend's strong back, taking the weight of him. Eventually, Kakashi spoke, a mumbled vibration against Iruka's neck – the mask and his collar muffling the childish words: "I have to go."

"Don't you always?" Iruka let him leave, but it took a lot longer to part that time.

x

Late into that Friday night and Naruto was still eating. Iruka found himself drifting from the conversation, unable to stop thinking of Hatake Kakashi. Naruto, torn between raving at or about his tardy sensei, was not helping to distract Iruka as much as he'd originally hoped.

"He has _another_ mission!" Naruto finally exclaimed around a mouthful of ramen, unaware how unsurprising this news was. "Kurenai-sensei hasn't gone on anything alone for _months_, and Asuma-sensei doesn't even get this many – I asked Kiba-kun _and_ Shikamaru-baka!"

Iruka smiled in amusement as the ageing owner shot the young blonde an exasperated look. Naruto may have grown so much in the three years he'd spent with Jiraiya, but at the end of the day he was still Naruto.

"Kakashi-sensei has a very strong base of skills. It's natural that the Hokage would want to make the most of such an experienced shinobi. He was very young when he first became a ninja." Iruka could stop the tremble in his voice. He could. If he _tried_.

He supposed that this was what his life would be like from now on, wondered if _knowing_ about Kakashi's missions would be any easier than _not knowing. _He also wondered if being _close_ to Kakashi would be any easier than keeping his distance, even as he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep any sense of distance now that Kakashi had basically offered the academy teacher a slice of himself. Touch stone indeed. Of all the shinobi he could've trusted to do that!

Naruto seemed to consider his response over his bowl of ramen. Or perhaps, Iruka thought, he was trying to figure out the _ramen's_ response. "You mean, because sensei's a genius? Like Sasuke?"

"No. Genius qualities are usually specific to certain fields, so while Sasuke, for instance, is a genius at ninjutsu, he had to train hard to become as skilled at genjutsu and taijutsu. After he'd activated the Sharingan, I understand he advanced far more quickly in these fields." At Naruto's nod he continued. "Neji-san is a genius at the _Gentle Fist Style_, but he isn't quite as sufficient in other areas, you see?"

"What's Kakashi-sensei a genius in then, Iruka-sensei?"

'_Irritation techniques. It's a field all of his own.' _Iruka bit down the thought. "Kakashi-sensei may be a genius at ninjutsu – especially with the Sharingan – but he has a strong knowledge of taijutsu and genjutsu. He mastered the Sharingan blood limit, remember. That must've taken a lot of hard work." Iruka was beginning to think he'd never convince Naruto of his teacher's respectability, but then, most of the time he had trouble convincing himself. Iruka was a teacher, not a miracle worker!

"Heh." Naruto was thoughtful for a moment. "So that _whole_ eternal rivalry thing, that Gai-sensei insists on… the 'Genius Vs Hard Work! – 52 to 48!'" If the impression had been less accurate, Iruka would've scolded the boy, but the chop-stick aided Nice Guy pose was too perfect to not find amusing.

"… It's all basically a crock of shit?" Iruka wasn't the only one to choke on his noodles with laughter.

Naruto's exclamation had been loud enough for every shinobi in the busy ramen stand to overhear, and with the current gossip revolving around the Copy Nin, every shinobi in there had begun to drop their eaves as soon as they'd entered. Iruka didn't mind. He'd probably have done the same.

"Basically, yes!" Iruka grinned widely.

"Then why keep it going?" Naruto seemed dumbfounded at Iruka's shrug. "_My_ lazy-arse teacher knows the meaning of _Hard Work?_" Naruto's grin was distinctly fox-like. "Oh, he's _never_ living this one down!"

"Naruto…" Iruka was immensely glad that Naruto was no longer his student, eternally grateful that he had never got on the wrong side of the boy. "…Go easy on him, okay?"

Naruto's fox grin widened.

* * *

Part of ANBU training, perhaps the most important part, was learning how to break.

The ability to live an ordinary life, protect ordinary people, fight for one's village - all after murdering people, often without reason or brief –was not an easy thing to do. This was the reason the ANBU were so particular in their recruitment – rank and ability were not enough, and often barely taken into consideration. The real skill the ANBU sought was something its members jokingly referred to as 'flexible stability,' meaning that mental responses could be switched off or maintained as needed.

The influx of ANBU members during the last stages of the Third Secret War had been great, but not startling. The young generations, growing up in that environment, used to death and destruction and decay, were ideally suited for the insane pressures of the highest classes of mission.

All ANBU were encouraged to break down and relieve themselves of guilt as soon as a sensible opportunity presented itself, and so all ANBU assassins developed systems early on in their careers by which to allow themselves to break. Some cried like children, sobbing helplessly until they fell into blissful unconsciousness. Some trained to exhaustion, until their skinless knuckles bled too much to keep their grip on the defenceless object they were pummelling. Some held elaborate rituals for those they had killed, kneeling on bare wooden floors, respectfully pouring ashes and petals into containers to set free into the wind after several days of consecration and prayer. Some went home to their oblivious partners to gentle touches and brief, stray tears, while still others masturbated ferociously in the rank, beer-stained back alleys of Konoha's shadier streets.

This is why, as Kakashi propped himself up against his locker in the ANBU changing room, half-heartedly fighting the dreamy doze threatening his aching body after his three days on the field, he pointedly pretended he couldn't see the poor bastard in the shower. Curled up, foetal, sobbing and retching underneath the steaming water, not even flinching as it pelted a rain of harsh red dots upon his heaving back. They all had their ways of coping, just another skeleton in each man's closet. Kakashi was no different.

The Copy Nin's method of breaking was really what defined him as an ANBU. In a sense, it made him the perfect shinobi robot. Kakashi's ability to separate himself from his emotions had been honed from an early age. Had started on the day he'd walked into his living room to find his father had gutted himself upon the wooden floor. _'Don't think it. Don't go there.' _It had become his mantra.

Almost methodically, he would clean his wounds, heal his body, eat, sleep, train; Kakashi would continue to live his life as he always did; live his own odd version of absolute normality for as long as he possibly could. Then, when he could stand no more and his actions and missions and pain and insanity and guilt crept upon him until he thought he would go _mad_ with the utter enormity of it all – Kakashi would bury himself in a cocoon of blankets, encircled by his dogs in the dark. And he would stay like that, safe and surrounded, until the weight in his chest and the lump in his throat and the gripping fear had sedated. Was bearable again.

As a child he would hide in his teacher's cupboard, a testament to how young he'd really been, but when he'd first joined the ANBU there had been no-one who could pick a lock like he could. No-one else who could fit into those tiny little spaces to hide and spy and retrieved and destroy. So he'd performed a lot of missions back then, because there was no-one else alive to do it.

Sometimes, Kakashi could go for years without breaking. Sometimes it was a matter of days. He could feel it coming, though, and at times like this would normally avoid any high-class missions, anything that took him away from Konoha for too long. Kakashi had never _truly _snapped on the field, but he had never run the risk of it anyway.

But despite the warning signs, now was not the time to break. Now was the time to visit Iruka, and tease his Team, and bicker with the Hokage. Lately, though, Kakashi could not stop his hands from shaking, the memories of a year and a half's worth of missions and murders and trauma would just hit him suddenly, refusing to be ignored. But what could he do besides shove those shaking hands more deeply into his pockets?

He had never slouched as a child, never dared to leave his hands confined within his pockets before his first experience with ANBU level post traumatic shock Since then it had become second nature – '_just in case, Kakashi, your hands won't shake if no-one sees them' – _just another strange habit that defined him, and Kakashi considered himself lucky that the shinobi he knew _now_ were all his own age – because the comrades he'd had _back then_ had all been too old and wise - _suspicious and paranoid_ - to believe his masks were anything more than masks. Kakashi considered himself lucky about a lot of things, these days. If he didn't, he was certain he would scream.

Sometimes, though, there was nothing underneath.

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER 5**

**x**

**Thanks to:**

**Shake it buddy:** Cheers! I just figure, if I want to write Sasuke back in, he can't be an angsty little git forever. Well he _could_ but then this story would about solving _his_ headspace –infinitely less fun than Kakashi's! XD

**Sorviball:** I wish I could be sorry about you being late, but I can't because your reviews were so sweet! Thanks for the advice; it's weird because usually I'm told my paragraphs are too short –over compensating, maybe? Lol! Thanks again! XD

**Sna:** Thank you! Well, to be honest, the inspiration came from reading two of your Kaka/Rin stories and the Sakumo/Kakashi comparison, which was just awesome! I was just too lazy to go and look up the names that I couldn't remember! Thanks again for reading, (and hang in there for the Rin lovin'!) XD

**Tami:** Thank you for the critique, it was really appreciated! Glad you enjoyed!

**DarkLadyErisa: **Wow, thank you… You think wounds are opening now? If I can pull it off that is… I have plans for our pretty little ninja! They keep changing, but they're plans! I think Naruto's a lot more competent than he seems - or would be by the time he'd be able to drag Sasuke back… and if _that _stands to reason, it would just be insulting to anyone who's reading to believe the same lines of Genius/Drop-Out would be in play anywhere but in their own head-space. XD thanks again!

**Iceheart: **Thanks! But poor Sasuke! I don't think he failed, more that he was completely stupid for picking _Jiraiya! _Sasuke has an ego-trip that is too fun to exploit! As for the pics – I tried to write it so you could see Kakashi as either shocked at Naruto's foresight, or perving on Iruka. Either I failed, or we're all perverts. I think I like the second option, lol!

**Nezuko:** thank you! (and as for the fear and damnation, you didn't scare me, really - I know you wouldn't have lynched me or anything for stealing your headspace, but the thought that I could unwittingly deprive myself (and the rest of the fandom) of the answer to every goddamn cliff-hanger you write (grrrr) was just scary, lol. And that . . thing, doesn't seem to like to work where it should!) If there is a way for me to include Jiraiya and Shikamaru in ANY scene, they'll be there. I'm a fangirl that way, heehee! Thanks again! (And thanks for the site; it's been a world of good!)

**Meleth78:** thank you SO much! I've just read _Look! Look!_ Part 7, and have I mentioned so far that your porn/comedy/writing/everything is _amazing_?

**Kimi No Vanilla:** wow, thank you. I don't know what else to say but thanks, especially that you feel he fits the canon depiction. I really hope that feel continues! XD

**Snow887; Isolde1; Jade Dragoness** (lmao, woobie!); **Azamiko** and **Mako Red Eyes**!


	6. 06

**Notes:** Because they needed a _break_ the poor things. A long one.  
A small refrain from so much angst, hopefully. (From what I've read, I'm assuming Sennin is plural for Sannin?)  
The woman I've named Shourei can be found on leafninja(dot)com listed as 'decoder woman.' Seen it? Now tell me she doesn't look like a funny drunk?

I struggled a lot with this chapter, found it very difficult to write Kakashi as a social butterfly, so I would really appreaciate your thoughts!

**Disclaimer: **characters and situations are based on Naruto by Masashi Kishimoto. Except for Shiranui Genma and Namiashi Raidou, who have been corrupted and stolen by Meleth78 and Nezuko, and it's to them that credit is due. Unless they hate the characterisation, in which case, I'll take the blame! XD

**Thanks again to everyone who has read and/or reviewed**!

* * *

On Monday 7th May, the heat wave finally shattered. 

The heavy storms had started some time in the afternoon and had not let up. Soon, the entire village was drenched in the cold, refreshing deluge. Even the younger kids had been so grateful for the revitalising cool they had forgotten to fear the thunder.

Iruka had allowed his class to leave early, knowing they would not get any work done with even their teacher desperate to be outside for the birthing of that storm. Walking slowly home (resisting the urge to splash about like a kid) he saw a drenched Naruto running away from an even wetter Sasuke, both laughing slightly, splashing about like kids, so intent in their version of 'training' they didn't even notice their grinning former teacher. '_You get along? You get along. I'm sooo telling on you to Kakashi!'_

Thinking of the masked Jounin arrested Iruka's thoughts for some time. He tried not to think about the horrible doubt that came with not knowing where he stood with the Copy Nin, knowing from past experience that if anything was _wrong_, Kakashi wouldn't have wasted his time driving the younger man slowly crazy.

Eventually, the blessed patter of rain eventually sent the Hidden Leaf into a deep slumber.

Late that night Iruka was woken by an insistent knocking at his door. Feeling vaguely ridiculous answering it, not only weaponless, but wearing only loose-fitting pyjamas, the teacher was shocked to see a half-drowned Sharingan Kakashi standing at his door, ANBU mask tied to his belt, tight trousers made even more clingy by the rain…

Iruka gaped.

Kakashi's tired eyes seemed to shrug. "The locker rooms were being used for _something_…" he looked Iruka over without the slightest hint of discretion. "I didn't realise it was so late. You look rumpled."

"It's raining." Iruka's intelligent response only heightened his blush. "I mean, it relaxes everything, after the tension, you know?" He tried valiantly to fight the growing heat of mortification spreading across his face. It was a fruitless battle. Iruka gave up and just invited Kakashi into his home.

"Where should I…" the ANBU gestured to the arm shields he was removing.

"Oh just dump them on the floor there!" Kakashi nodded, complying. "You look – well, like some drowned animal, really. Oh, I didn't mean – you should take a shower. Have you got a change of clothing? Are you hungry?" Kakashi laughed at Iruka's flustered stream.

"No to everything except the shower. That would be great." Iruka smiled as Kakashi rested his soaking against the wall.

His chest armour had joined his shoes and arm shields on the floor. Iruka could just imagine what would happen if Kurenai or Anko could see Kakashi as he was just there – tired eyes framed by lank, drooping hair, incredibly _wet_ all over and wearing the tightest uniform Iruka had ever seen, and that tattoo! – the fanclub would be back up and running in a flash. Hell, he was tempted to run for its president. The vague consideration flashed across his mind that, with the correct marketing scheme, even the Sasuke fangirls might be converted.

When Kakashi caught his eye, Iruka mentally slapped himself.

Mumbling something about a towel, Iruka led Kakashi to his bathroom, fetched him some old, oversized pyjamas and left the smirking Copy Nin to his own devices.

x

Iruka was already curled up in his bed by the time Kakashi emerged from the bathroom – presumably dumping his wet uniform with the armour – and before Iruka realised what was going on, the Copy Nin had crawled into the bed beside him.

"What – I mean – what?" Iruka moved to rise. "Don't worry, I'll take the couch – you erm -" Kakashi sighed and swung a leg over Iruka's, effectively trapping him. "You'll need to not do that…"

"I ache too much for this argument."

"Kakashi -"

"Iruka." Kakashi leaned his head on a hand, elbow propped up by Iruka's cheek, unmasked face directly before him. When the Jounin spoke quietly, Iruka could feel the man's breath on his cheek. "I don't want to sleep on the couch. I don't want _you_ to sleep on the couch. I'm tired, I'm cold, I'm bruised. I've spent the last three days dodging kunai and I'm a little desperate for some human contact that doesn't involve any aim for my vital points – I think I may be developing a complex." Iruka huffed with laughter at Kakashi's exaggerated pout.

"You're _warm_," he continued, placing a kiss to Iruka's collar bone. "You never try and murder me without an audience and you smell good. If you want me to move, say so, but don't put me through this 'for the sake of propriety' crap right now, ok?" Kakashi paused before adding to Iruka's slight frown. "I don't have the energy to tease you properly about it."

Iruka laughed a little, digging an arm beneath Kakashi as the older man settled down. Kakashi's nose buried itself in the crook of Iruka's neck and the Chuunin pushed the damp silver hair away from his sensitive cheek before continuing to stroke the wet scalp, soothingly. Kakashi wriggled in a contented sigh, and Iruka was put in mind of one of the Jounin's nin-dogs.

"Talk to me?" came a husky mumble.

"'Bout what, Kakashi?"

"Something normal."

Iruka didn't need to ask what he meant, just began to speak quietly about his younger students as one hand moved gently across Kakashi's back – their games, their pranks, their tantrums. He avoided any mention of weapons and chakra and pain, until Kakashi finally fell asleep; dreaming, perhaps, of a softer life.

* * *

True to his routine, Iruka awoke Tuesday morning exactly ten minutes before his alarm was set to go off. Left hand going automatically to shut off it's impending shrill, it took a moment for Iruka to realise that the deadened numbness in his right arm was due to its uncomfortable clinging to the man lying half on top of him. 

'_Oh my god.'_

Kakashi stirred as Iruka moved; his training kicking in enough to discern that his bed-mate was no immediate threat before he slumped back into a doze. Kakashi's hand tightened its fisted grip of Iruka's shirt front, and the younger shinobi marvelled again at the Jounin's sheer _youngness_ in sleep.

He carefully pulled himself out from under the Copy Nin, unable to deny ruffling that silvery hair; and Kakashi curled up to Iruka's pillow, mumbling something about everyone stealing his warmth.

"Go back to sleep, Kakashi. It's early yet." The older man gave a responsive yawn from his cocooned position in the bed, his voice honeyed as he replied, made thick by sleep.

"One day I'll prove t'you that I c'n do mornin's…"

"Sure," Iruka grinned, amazed at how easily the feared Copy Nin could be persuaded. "Now go back to sleep."

* * *

Sometimes, Kakashi wondered if he could pull off just dropping to his knees and screaming. Because, and let's face it, there was bad luck, and then there was nature's very own personal vendetta against you. At this point, Kakashi honestly didn't know which plagued him more. 

Why was it, though, that whenever he agreed to an _easy_ mission with Asuma, they always ended up in ridiculous amounts of trouble? It wasn't worth it. And the shit of was that Kakashi knew full well that Asuma was thinking the exact same thing. About him.

The B-Class Missing Nin holding a kunai to an unmoving Yuuhi Kurenai's throat was coming to the end of his monologue, and Kakashi just could _not_ be bothered to go through all this right now. They had been running around since before dawn, aiming to be back to Konoha by sunset, for Shourei-chan's 30th birthday piss-up. A glance to his left told the Copy Nin that Asuma was again running on a similar wavelength, and even Kurenai looked more bored than bothered by the sharp object in line with her jugular.

Even with the Sharingan exposed, he had no idea what they could do to get her out quickly. Gai wasn't even with them to provide the energetic wordplay that so often got them out of - and into - more scraps than they could handle. It wasn't that the Elite Jounin were irresponsible shinobi, just that when tired, they grew irritable. Like children, really.

"Cut the crap, shinobi, let her go." Kakashi's uninterested sigh – the first move that any of them had _actually_ made – shocked their opponent into silence, and their captured comrade into a spitting rage.

"_You fucking _bas_tard, how **dare** you not even _try _to save my life! Asuma you **fuck**! Get over here and **fight** this piece of shit!" _Kurenai's head, the only part of her body not bound by the enemy's unfamiliar ninjutsu, thrashed about frighteningly – and frighteningly close to that kunai blade as well. Asuma casually lit up a cigarette to hide his sudden loss of colour. He turned to Kakashi, a feigned look of utmost boredom on his expressive face.

"Go ahead, twinkle toes, I got the last one."

Kakashi sighed dramatically, pulled off the glove of his right hand. "Do you have _any_ idea who I am?"

_(Once upon a time, Kakashi's teacher had explained to his young charge that the signature white chakra of the Hatake Clan (or what was left of it) could be exposed through the use of his father's tanto blade.)_

"Sha-Sharingan Kakashi…" the enemy shinobi's hand began to shake as Kakashi began to advance, menacingly.

"Very good." He replied.

_(This wasn't exactly true, however, as Kakashi soon discovered. The electric chakra was just another form of manipulating energy, the Hatakes, in theory, were instinctively good at it – just like the Uchihas were instinctively good at controlling the Sharingan.)_

White lightening danced over Kakashi's fingertips; he slowly unsheathed a small knife at his side and spread the strong glow across the blade. Kurenai gasped melodramatically, turned her head to meet her captor's eyes with her fierce red ones. "Oh, no, not that trick…" The enemy shinobi echoed Kurenai's rehearsed shock with genuine fear.

_(The family tantos were excellent vessels to use when controlling the destructive chakra, in a similar way that the Saratobi clan could used their chakra blades. It wasn't that it was necessary, just efficient. It was safer to have something you associated with the chakra directing its movement, than allow it come forth unchecked – as Kakashi had been prone to do during tantrums as a very young child. Once the young prodigy had figured it out, it had only taken him a short time to perfect his control of this chakra.)_

"Let her go, shinobi, or I _will_ kill you." Kakashi's eyes reflected the knife's leaping electricity fiercely, Sharingan pulsing to a rhythm unseen by all but the silver haired nin. The enemy shinobi dropped his kunai and took off running. The binding jutsu released, Kurenai grabbed the knife from Kakashi's hand and threw it at the escaping ninja – striking him neatly in the back of the head. The two men winced as their opponent dropped.

Mission accomplished, Kurenai grabbed a fistful of Kakashi's hair and yanked him down to her eye level.

"Never try your luck like that again, Hatake, or you will be in a _world_ of _pain._" The two male shinobi wisely shut up at Kurenai's violent hiss, though they couldn't help muttering bitterly to each other as they obediently followed her lead.

"I think I liked it better when she only yelled at you." Kakashi whispered at some point, rubbing at his scalp.

"Welcome to the family," was Asuma's only reply as they lapsed into a content, yet bruised, silence.

* * *

Namiashi Raidou had graduated from the ninja academy when he was ten, the same year as Hatake Kakashi. That had been as close to the child prodigy as Raidou got for _many_ years, Kakashi being privately trained by the Yellow Flash himself and promoted within a year, and Raidou, like so many Gennin of the time, was secretly terrified of this all-too-efficient _baby_ in their midst 

Despite the deep resentment so many of their graduating class had felt towards the young Hatake, Raidou had too soon realised that with skill, came battle. In the times they grew up, battles weren't games in Konoha's guarded arenas, with referees to ensure fair play. They were exhausting fights in the middle of a war zone, pitting child upon child and not giving a shit if both opponents died or not – a weak shinobi was merely a hindrance in war, after all.

So it was that, while Raidou had heard a lot about Team 7, he seemed to expect far more from Kakashi's students than the rumours suggested. He had briefly seen their raw potential in the Chuunin exams some years ago, before their training at the hands of the famous Sennin, and had heard Genma rave about Naruto's defeat of the Inuzuka boy – which, typically, the senbon sucking idiot had found irresistible.

So of course, being a curious and efficient ninja continuously open to new experiences, Raidou was pleased to accept the offer of teaching Kakashi's troops while the younger Jounin was away for a weekend on a high-class mission. Classified, unfortunately.

The brats had been respectful, if a little concerned about their teacher, and Raidou had a lot of fun teaching the competent students advanced swordsmanship. He had taught them the basics, as Kakashi's notes had suggested, and then following the orders _'Feel free to tease them inventively,' _had shown them an advanced technique, similar to the first part of the Crescent Moon Dance.

Raidou had shown them once, and ordered them to recreate it, expecting them to fold under the pressure. To the Jounin's surprise, Sasuke had apparently used the Sharingan to copy the technique, though like most taijutsu based moves the recreation could by no means be perfect. All three students glared at him before turning to each other, Sasuke slowly teaching his team-mates what he'd seen, Naruto improvising more than anything, around the parts they could not reproduce. Sakura had quickly figured out the correct placement and maintenance of chakra, and explained it coherently to the boys on her team.

Raidou could see Kakashi's imprint so clearly in how they pieced the move together, especially in the Uchiha's cool copy and analysis of Raidou's segmented action. The rumours all suggested that the three could not get along, many of the complaints rumoured to have come from the Copy Nin himself. Somehow, Raidou couldn't help but adore their secret loyalty, their ability to look out for each other when they aware their teacher could not look out for them all.

Raidou was good at seeing what other people missed. Shinobi in general strived to find alternatives to what they saw – ninja like Kakashi and Genma looked so far beneath the underneath that it came naturally to them; but Raidou had perfected his analysis of body language - of simple things like eye contact, jaw tension, hand placement – the little actions that gave everything away.

It was no surprise to Raidou when Sakura found him after their lesson, asking him quietly how well he knew their sensei. She told him in confidence about the _prize _she had won, how she was struggling to find any questions to ask and felt foolish for not _knowing _what her questions should be.

"Kakashi-san wants you to always look beneath the underneath." Raidou intoned the predictable words as if they held the key to life's great secrets, loving the suspense he created. "If it was an interrogation lesson, he probably isn't expecting you to ask anything you could find out by other means. Why does the answer have to be of words?" The way the dear little kunoichi's eyes lit up in malicious plotting brought a warm glow to Raidou's heart.

Kakashi's prize was an interesting mind game, but oh so childish. It seemed to Raidou as if the Copy Nin really _was_ losing his touch, the Kakashi _he_ knew would have found something infinitely more devious.

Raidou couldn't _wait_ to put _that_ to the Gossip Vine.

* * *

The Elite Jounin eventually turned up late into the proceedings of Shourei's birthday piss-up, but the gathered shinobi felt that, with Hatake Kakashi on the team, it was almost a miracle they made it at all. Iruka immediately noticed Kakashi's presence – and much to his chagrin, so did the already tipsy birthday girl, latching herself to him, insisting on an unmasked birthday kiss. 

Iruka, despite the flare of jealousy – _not jealousy. Shourei's just a total slut! –_ couldn't really blame the mission decoder. Shourei, who hadn't been born to the ninja way of life, had dragged promises out of everyone that they would dress down for one night, be normal human beings on the piss for just one night. The result was a mass of well toned bodies dressed in the slinkiest gear each _owned._ Shourei and her comrades, who for the most part were not qualified field ninja, complained good naturedly about the likelihood of this amount of eye candy being gathered in one place in the '_real world'_.

The only item that remained on each shinobi from their usual uniforms was the hitae-ate, though only Kakashi wore his in its usual position. The moniker of his rank, combined with the black jumper – _with mask, typical! - _thatwas _definitely_ not standard issue gave Kakashi his usual predatory look. But the well-worn jeans, slung low on thin hips, made the Copy Nin look slightly more his age – made Iruka's mouth go slightly dry.

The now complete ensemble ambled from the bar they'd inhabited to one of Konoha's most popular restaurants – the interesting design of the restaurant allowed for every seat in the room to survey the room's entirety, in the summer the slats of wooden 'walls' came down to reveal a totally open space, and even the kitchen was visible to any ninja in the room – which was designed specifically to ease the minds of the shinobi of the village.

Once in the restaurant they began the chaotic dance of _sitting down_. Kurenai and Shourei had disappeared to the bathroom, and everyone had sat around the table, leaving the head of the table free for the birthday girl. Soon though, Maito Gai was complaining about Kakashi's seat at he opposite end of the table, claiming it was purely offensive to think he could get out of their eternal battles at such an open opportunity. Heaving a sigh, the Copy Nin dragged himself to Asuma's side, sitting in the seat reserved for Kurenai. The ensuing confusion took a full twenty minutes to defeat, the two elite nin uneasy at the prospect of leaving the genjutsu expert out of their seating arrangement, and Raidou, despite being amazed at the illogical jigsaw-like strategies, did not fail to notice Kakashi's pleased smirk when, after being moved from almost every seat at the table, he finally settled in the chair next to Iruka's, scraping it close.

"No objections?" The Copy Nin's question seemed open enough, but Iruka's answering blush left Raidou smirking. When none were forthcoming and the two missing kunoichi returned, the alcohol flowed freely once again. When the food finally came, a chorus of _Happy Birthday_ was sung to Shourei, who had given up trying to act sober and taken instead to throwing back shot after shot of saké, encouraged by her comrades and co-workers.

The elite Jounin and Chuunin, where they had congregated at the end of the table, were sipping politely at their drinks, engaging in _less_ than polite conversation. So many had only recently returned from various missions, and were more intent on enjoying the food than partying hard. Kakashi was sporadically inhaling down parts of his meal, taking great pleasure in pretending to be oblivious to the other shinobi's desolation at not seeing beneath that mask - but Raidou was more intrigued with the way Iruka kept shooting fond looks towards the Copy Nin, with how often they were returned with hungrier glances. He was beginning to see the almost _designed_ melodrama of the table shuffle – the way Kakashi had reacted so quickly to Gai's predictable outburst, how the usually stubborn Copy Nin had been manoeuvred around the table so easily, ending up practically in the Chuunin sensei's delectable lap._ 'Sweet fuck, are they **flirting**?'_

The hell of it all was that Raidou couldn't even share this momentous occasion with Genma, because the dippy bastard had agreed to go on some 'Active Reconnaissance' mission with Morino Ibiki, of all people. He had _claimed_ it would be the perfect opportunity to bug the elite Jounin into giving up precious information about the as-yet-unconfirmed-ANBU-Kakashi (the very thought made Raidou shudder slightly) - '_but fuck…_' – they really _were_ flirting!

Unaware of Raidou's scrutiny, Kakashi continued in his self appointed mission. As each ninja finished their meal, someone shouted for a toast, and as each shinobi raised their glasses, one of her co-workers – her fiancé, Kakashi recognised – stood, speaking a strange blend of ANBU click and vocal binary. Kakashi leant in as if to listen better, delighting in Iruka's slight shiver at the low chuckle in his ear.

"What did he say?" Iruka turned to face Kakashi. Their noses almost touched before the Copy Nin realised enough to react to the proximity. Raidou barely hid a smirk. Was he _really_ the only idiot _noticing_ this?

"Just code. 'Happy Birthday, don't be swayed by sweet-talking machinery.'" Kakashi backed up slightly. "I think."

Iruka laughed lightly, turning back to the Jounin's renewed conversation. Kakashi knew he was pushing it, knew he had far too much to lose for the sake of a fling – '_like Iruka's friendship, for instance!'_ - but after that small taste of contact on Monday night, Kakashi had craved more. It shocked him, by no small measure, the violence of this sudden _intent_. He craved Iruka in a way he had wanted little else, but if his friend was game, then…

Kakashi tuned back into the conversation, feeling slightly apprehensive for reasons unknown to him, and realised Kurenai was bitching about the day's mission this afternoon.

"…So then _these_ two bastards just _leave_ me in the grip of some maniac -"

"In our defence, it was a very strange jutsu!" Asuma pointed out.

"Kakashi - You copy it?" Konoha's Green Beast alternated between a sleepy drunk and a violent one, and that night seemed strangely more coherent with so much saké in his system.

"Mmm."

"Haaa… such a modern response!" Gai sighed. Kurenai gave a frustrated growl as she carried on berating her team-mates, but Kakashi had stopped paying attention altogether as Iruka proved a very willing distraction, running trimmed fingernails firmly along his inner thigh

Raidou noticed Kakashi's tiny flinch – right eye widening comically for a second – and noticed how Iruka's hands were both out of sight. '_I can't believe Genma's missing this!' _A sharp kick to his own legs, though, told Raidou that he wasn't the only one to notice. Looking around the table, he noticed Asuma's raised eyebrow. The close-combat expert tapped his lips meaningfully with a cigarette, and Raidou, who hadn't really been _planning_ on saying anything at all, found himself biting his tongue.

* * *

"I know it's against our tradition, but how about I cook for you tonight, instead?" 

Tsunade paused at her friend's suggestion, wondering what the old man was thinking. She raised a golden eyebrow pointedly, a hand going to her hip as her left foot began a menacing tap upon the stone street.

"Tsunade-chan! I'm not trying to score with you, I promise! We can go to the offices, if you like, I'll cook something there!"

Jiraiya's bright grin, a lecher's grin, did nothing to put Tsunade's mind at ease. They ate at _this_ _particular _restaurant every year. For the past four years – since her becoming Hokage – in a strange celebration of too many things lost to them both. They celebrated to proclaim that they were still standing, despite it all; though Tsunade had a feeling Jiraiya's celebration was a little more to do with their standing together again, than their standing alone. He had always been more sentimental that way.

"Tell me why. Right now."

Tsunade was fond of this restaurant – and they were close enough to _see_ the diners now, it seemed a waste to just leave! Spring had hit Konoha already, so the adorable slats had already been removed, leaving it a fine, beatific room of open spaces. You could even see the kitchen staff as they prepared the food. Being a medical expert, knowing too much about the effects and administering of certain poisons, the restaurant had always made her feel at ease.

"Because there seems to be a celebration going on their already and we would probably _ruin _the _fun_!"

Tsunade's brow crinkled at the odd inflection of Jiraiya's words, she already knew about Shourei's birthday celebrations. However, the Toad hermit's accompanying finger waggle made her automatically look beneath the tables of the restaurants, looking for some act of perversion or intrigue. If it had not been for a teacher's hand settling on Jounin's thigh, she would've worried about what her response said about her _own_ perversion, and the time spent with the other Sannin. As it was, Tsunade merely smirked and told Jiraiya to lead the way.

"It's nice of you to offer to cook, Jiji," Jiraiya nodded at her words, pleased. "But you won't get anything out of it, pervert!"

Jiraiya raised one white eyebrow at her satisfied smirk.

"I gave up on you_ years_ ago, Tsunade-baachan. You're resistant to my charms!" the Godaime's smirk grew. "You're _obviously _a lesbian."

"BAKA!"

Tsunade's fist met Jiraiya's head with a resounding crack, as they pleasantly made their way back to the Hokage's Tower.

* * *

True to his routine, Iruka awoke Friday morning exactly ten minutes before his alarm was set to go off. Left hand going automatically to shut off it's impending shrill, it took a moment for Iruka to realise that the deadened numbness in his right arm was due to its uncomfortable tangle with the – he shifted – _naked_ man lying half on top of him. 

'_Oh my god.'_

Kakashi stirred as Iruka tried to quell his nervous blush, training kicking in enough to discern that his bed-mate was no immediate threat before he slumped back into a doze. Kakashi's hand unconsciously tugged at Iruka's lose hair, and the younger shinobi grinned before slipping gently from the bed.

* * *

_Morning missions are the worst _thought Kakashi, as he trudged to the students' habitual meeting spot, denying even to himself that he had welcomed any break from all the building confusion and inevitable tension at home. A quick pick up operation – another ambushed ANBU operative passed out in a tree somewhere needed bringing home fast – and between two sets of skilled tracking dogs, Hatake Kakashi and Inuzuka Tsume had recovered the shinobi, lying unconscious on an overhang of a steep hill. Within three hours Kakashi was on his way home. 

Not without a quick one on one with his attacker first.

_This whole avoiding open war thing is really starting to grate. _Kakashi didn't _want_ any more bumps on his head. He didn't _need_ any more bumps on his head. But as he _had_ to choose between the blade coming at his throat or the heavy piece of wood swinging towards his head, he realised that his semi-permanent concussed state was inevitable, really. He kicked out at the enemy with the kunai and stumbled with the force to the back of his head – through the spot the clone had so recently occupied. He guessed that this shinobi – probably a covert assassin – would wish to avoid full frontal combat, instead placing its clone in Kakashi's line of sight in favour of attacking from a blind spot.

Kakashi reached out for the opponent, still behind him, as he fell. Playing on his own 'blindness,' Kakashi heard the shinobi gasp when the Copy Nin's groping hands clamped down upon his wrist. Dragging the Nin over his shoulder, Kakashi launched himself – and his attacker – forward. Tumbling painfully down the steep hill, he briefly hoped that, in case he should lose this fight, Tsume had taken the opportunity to get their 'package' back to Konoha.

'_If Inuzuka is still standing up there when I get back, hangover or not the bitch is going down this bastard thing.'_

A web of thrashing limbs, Kakashi somehow managed to drag up on the Shinobi's neck, snapping it. Unfortunately, the sudden dead weight trapping his lithe form - '_no, really, ouch!' - _impaired any chance the Copy Nin had of stalling his descent, causing him to eventually land in an undignified heap in a muddy pit.

Fortunately, the grimy ditch was an implausibly perfect place to dispose of unwanted weights, and Kakashi, occasionally picking bits of grass and muddy twigs from his hair and clothing, made the short journey back home.

An hour and a half later, after he had showered and changed, visited his beloved dead and bitched to Yondaime about shoddy training and Gunk-Filled Death Pits; Kakashi reached his students. He was an hour late. Meaning they had been waiting for four.

"Yo!"

"YOU'RE LATE!"

"I was taking a relaxing mud-bath and was accosted by - "

"_LIAR!"_

"- a giant bird." Kakashi held his hands up, placating, before continuing, noticing Sakura's book. "Today I had planned to spar with you." Naruto's eyes lit up. "But if you feel so disheartened, we could work on the more theoretical aspects of strategy?"

Sakura's eyes narrowed at the reference to her reading material. "I didn't mean to suggest anything, sensei…"

"Then you should take more care with _what you do and what you say_. Carrying that book declares to the world that you are unsure of strategic theory, putting an unflattering slant on my teaching as well as your own abilities."

"Just like carrying porn around declares to the world that you're a _pervert!_" Apart from a slight grin, Kakashi gave no sign of hearing Naruto's petulant grumble.

"Any suggestions, then?" Kakashi stepped from the railing, falling gracefully into his normal slouch.

"Who are we sparring with and why?" Sasuke's greeting, in Kakashi's somewhat biased opinion, left something to be desired.

"Me, and to win." Kakashi grinned at the confident looks on their faces. Yes, they were strong, but they still had _no idea_ what he was capable of. "Hn...The Rules: You must fight me to checkmate. Meaning I have to be forced into a position where I can no longer fight. If one of you goes down and it doesn't aid your attempts, you fail this exercise. Same goes if any one of you does not pull their weight. This means _you_ Sakura."

Sasuke scoffed lightly as Sakura bristled. "Anything _else._"

Kakashi pretended to consider this. "Maa... You may use taijutsu only. But I will do the same."

Two hours later, Kakashi was standing attentively in the middle of a training field, on edge, waiting for his students to finish forming whatever strategy they would fail at next. He toed the book Sakura had dropped in her last clumsy attack. The girl had phenomenal strength, but was unaware of how to use it wisely. She had inherited the Godaime's fiery temper – no, she had always possessed it – but she now had the knowledge to bring forth strength enough to match it. It was classic Sakura that, instead of simply _asking_ if Kakashi knew anything about strategic planning, she had assumed he was just muscle and mind-games and found a book. Independent research was a good habit to cultivate, but being friends with Nara Shikamaru also had its many merits, and a shinobi should take advantage of all options, not _just_ the proud one.

Sasuke had come at him with the Sharingan, and, good as the boy was, his overconfidence had allowed Kakashi to shrug him off with minimal effort. The last six weeks of covert war games had given Kakashi more ANBU level field training than what he'd received when he was officially _in_ the high class unit, and it showed in his relaxed deflection of _every move they made_. In taijutsu, Sharingan foresight was only an advantage if your opponent wasn't aware of what you were looking for.

Naruto, oddly enough, seemed to be the only one really thinking. He had come at Kakashi recklessly within five minutes of the exercise's beginning, but had seemed to merely aim for getting to the other side of the training field – he had disappeared as Sasuke ran at Kakashi from behind and the Copy Nin had thought no more of it.

Now, however, Kakashi contemplated Naruto's growth. The blonde shinobi would remember from his initial training the emphasis on teamwork, he would not expect to be able to actually crush Kakashi without a plan, and the rebellious kitsune would no doubt look for a way to get around Kakashi's orders. The blonde had inadvertently stumbled across another of the Hatake's Life Lessons – _Appearances can be deceiving_. The ever-present porn made him appear a pervert, and Kakashi seemed to his students a lazy, perverted, easily distracted, socially defunct fool - and playing the part was _fun_. Kakashi also seemed that way to his enemies, and that was something his students hadn't really considered.

He wanted to explain to his students that no matter how good they were, underestimating someone was a Big Mistake. Underestimating people meant dying. Kakashi was an expert at making people underestimate him. At six years old he had passed the first part of his Chuunin exam by fake crying his way into the examiner's cooing arms, stealing glances at the answers on the kunoichi's desk while he wailed for good measure.

Kakashi was fighting three opponents; he was outnumbered, and presumably outclassed. So Kakashi was on the defence. A shinobi on the defence had to be tricked, and that was another lesson the three gifted young ninja needed to learn, and quickly. His wording had been precise as subtlety was _not_ their strongest point. '_Taijutsu only, all of them pulling their weight, appearing strategically defunct…'_

Kakashi waited patiently for Naruto to find the loop hole.

* * *

The Wednesday after their Great Prank, Team Konohamaru – wary of examining their stolen album while Ebisu-sensei was so on edge – decided to hide it in the Gennin training grounds. 

After all, nobody was better at camouflage than _they_ were.

* * *

Sasuke battled furiously with his sensei, trying to ignore the barbs to his dignity, his ability, his hair cut – _'as if he's really one to talk!' –_ as he slowly positioned his defensive instructor nearer to where Sakura and Naruto were waiting. Naruto's mastery of anything prank-like was perfect for this kind of situation, and once they had settled down to work through Kakashi's words, it hadn't been difficult to break his clues. 

The first hour had been hard going – every time they got close to one another Kakashi and his clones would set off intricate webs of shuriken to scatter the students – soon though, he had settled down to wait. The three were all too aware of Kakashi's permission to work out a strategy, and Naruto and Sasuke were struck angrily by the knowledge that despite their new training, their new strength, their past moments at besting their sensei, they were still sadly lacking when it came to second guessing the Copy Nin's experience. Sakura, who had never doubted Kakashi as much as the other two, began to think he'd intended to teach them all this lesson for a while.

But, as long as they timed it right, Naruto's initial plan, honed by Sakura's eye for detail, and Sasuke's execution, _could work_.

Sasuke attempted to pummel his relaxed teacher, throwing kicks and punches as fast and hard as he could to try and gauge when Kakashi's awareness began to blur. Kakashi blocked everything he had, and Sasuke began working to a challenging rhythm, aided by the Sharingan.

"You can't keep this speed up, Sasuke-_kun_." The Jounin smirked, even as he backed up slowly.

Spinning in mid air, sending a fierce flying kick straight at Kakashi's chest, Sasuke fell to his side as Kakashi crossed his arms before him to block the blow. At the same moment, expertly timed and executed, Sakura and Naruto each kicked a heel into the soft back of their instructor's knees.

Kakashi crumpled. His students squared up, surrounding his form.

A huff of laughter escaped the man as he hit the grass, and for a long moment he didn't move. Finally, propping himself up on his elbows with a grin, he turned to his students.

"Tell me your strategy."

Smiling widely, Naruto allowed Sakura to deliver the majority of the explanation, referring to many of Kakashi's past lessons which they had seemingly failed to understand. He threw the pink-haired kunoichi's book back to her.

"You see now why that text is insulting to your ability?"

Sakura felt both flattered and chastised, and remembered it.

* * *

The party lasted well into the hours of Thursday morning, and some ninja… well. Some ninja had a significant amount more fun than others. Some had a significant amount more to _drink_ than others, too. Raidou considered himself somewhere happily neutral on the tipsy-to-wasted scale, not really seeing much point in getting _too_ drunk when the likelihood was that Genma wouldn't be there to annoy with his whingeing on the morning after, so to speak. _Not_ that he was sentimental about those things, or anything like that. 

Raidou, Anko and Kotetsu had left the main party just after the majority of the Jounin – that is to say, somewhere between the drunken table-top dancing and the karaoke contest. As the rumours of this party spread their way along Konoha's gossip vine, the karaoke contest was deemed ridiculous. The restaurant didn't even _have_ a karaoke machine.

_That_ _was the very reason_, Raidou would reply,_ it didn't go down so well with the staff!_

Raidou stumbled home, occasionally itching at his scar self-consciously – somewhat more light-headed than he had realised – at about one in the morning. Seeing a light on in his apartment, Raidou entered in a rather clumsy, giggly version of the stealth training the elite ninja ranks had provided him with. Tripping over a dirty uniform, thrown haphazardly on the floor, the scarred Jounin found himself draped across his bed. Draped across his Genma…

"You!" Raidou shook the sleeping man until he woke, claiming his lips before the long-haired Jounin could voice his protest at the rough treatment so soon after a mission.

"Oh man, you're wasted!" Genma turned around in the bed with a grin, lying on his back to tug the older man down. "What do you want?"

"Are you hurt?" Raidou was running his hands over the other man, a wicked gleam in his unfocused eyes. "Wanna hear m'news?"

Genma sat up immediately, forgetting his weariness. "Gossip?"

"Uh-huh, can't tell no-one," Raidou sounded as solemn as a drunk ninja could. "As'ma would_ make me die!_ Un'erstand?"

Genma grinned. "Tell-me-tell-me-tell-meeee!"

"Kakash' an' 'Ruka… _together_!" Raidou melted into hopeless giggles, and Genma's enthusiasm was crushed as he realised he wasn't going to get anything good out of the other man until he was sober.

Genma flopped back down onto the bed with a sigh, pulling Raidou with him. "Glad you're _home_…" the scarred man mumbled into Genma's hair.

"Mmm, me too. Would've been nicer if you were sober - _I_ could've gotten some fuss!"

"I'll fuss!" Raidou hands began to roam again, "I can fuss! Wha' happened with 'Biki?"

"Well I asked him about Kakashi…" A wicked grin stole over Genma face. "…And he _definitely_ never said '_no'"_

* * *

Although he refused to move from where he had landed (claiming dizziness, no less), at his students' request Kakashi spent several hours going through basic and advanced strategic patterns. Attack formations, defence formations; Kakashi gave them the history, the effectiveness, the flexibility, and occasionally – when Naruto grew restless at the lecturing or Kakashi could not fully explain a concept – they went through live action re-enactments, teaming up to take each other down. Finally, he gave them a series of hypothetical battle scenarios, and had them make an effective strategy for each – changing the scenario slightly, adding situations ranging from the improbable to the ridiculous to show the adaptability of each formation. 

Kakashi seemed so knowledgeable then, so clear and concise in his explanations, that Sakura felt very young. Shikamaru's opinion of her teacher suddenly made absolute sense when she realised with a jolt that he was acting no different to his usual teasing manner. Sasuke and Naruto were bickering as ever, Kakashi's mind-games were familiar and confusing, but this was perhaps the first time she had been fully aware of the care her teacher took ensuring that all three understood – at least subconsciously – the lessons he was imparting.

Hatake Kakashi was not a teacher, he was a ninja - one of the best – and his only real concern was teaching them what it took to stay alive. Sakura suddenly realised that she had spent that entire first year after her graduation expecting another Iruka-sensei to teach her the shinobi equivalent of the alphabet. What would usually be a frustrating exercise to trip them up suddenly seemed excellent practice, pushing Sakura to question what she was spoon fed.

The way he looked at them today – a look that he had not possessed when Sasuke had first come crawling back from Orochimaru's grasp – was proud, confident, perhaps a little content. Kakashi had always treated them like shinobi. It had just taken Sakura a while to realise he only expected the same.

* * *

The day's lesson had gone well, Kakashi thought as he wandered through Konoha's streets, though Sakura's quiet and inquisitive glances had set his teeth on edge.

The fiery sun was setting quietly, and there was a chill in the air despite the warm glow bathing Konoha's rooftops. Kakashi had filled the entire day, had left himself with very little time to dwell on the past, and it had been almost refreshing. Or would have been, if not for his shaking hands and Naruto's familiar blonde exuberance; Sasuke's typical clanfeatures and Sakura's patient smile masking so many deeper frustrations.

Everything, it seemed, reminded him of the past. Failed to truly diminish the idea that however great today was, however much he had grown since _that _life, as _that _boy, in _that _time…tomorrow would still be _that_ day.

Tomorrow, Kakashi finally admitted to himself as he silently greeted his sensei, would be the ten year anniversary of Rin's death.

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER!**

**X**

**Thanks to:**

**Hey Diddle Diddle: **aww thanks! The touchstone thing came from undercover operations, and the term either from a fic or a dream, not sure. I'm shamelessly mixing spywork into this series, it lends itself so well – and I made you squee? Woo! I'm glad you liked the kiss, I was _really_ worried about putting up, didn't know whether it seemed in character or not… but then, he's very resourceful is our Kakashi XP. Thanks again!

**Sorviball: **Thank you! Naruto is _so_ much fun to write in small doses, he's like Jiraiya in that he seems to dominate whatever you write him into! XD

**Azamiko: … **wow, thank you! ANBU are awesome, but only when they're gritty…

**Tami: **Thanks for the crit! I do proof read obsessively, but as I've said, I think it's really hard to disassociate yourself from your own writing, you know? Reviews that flag mistakes or inconsistencies are always really, really appreciated so thank you!

**Fuhrer:** thank you! The only reason I use minimal Japanese is because I suck at it! Thanks for the review!

**Faith b: **Sorry again about your review:D thanks for all the support!

**Nezuko:** wow, thank you, I mean… wow. I hope the iceberg justifies the tip, then! Thanks so much!

**Meleth78: **Thanks! And… plot? Hehehe, _loose_ plot. It keeps re-writing itself at the moment... XD

**TyrsownRue: **Thanks! This will _definitely_ be finished. I can't stand leaving things half written, Like so much in this fandom, this _was_ gonna be a short! The last sentence is pretty much written, it's just getting there…XD

**Thanks also to Isolde1; DarkLadyErisa; BlueLady198; Nescione; WinterOfOurDiscontent; Roi du Ballet; Jemiul; Sna; Masked Shinobi:**


	7. 07

**Notes:** **Thanks to everyone whose read and/or reviewed!**

On a slightly topical note, I got extremely confused when looking for the names of the original Ino-Shika-Cho boys. The only place I could find it listed was leafninja(dot)com and some card-game website. For lack of knowledge, and for better continuity (because I'm ripping everything from leafninja nowadays, lol) I'm going with Shikaku, Chouza and Inoichi, so when they pop up I'm not writing in pointless oc's, I'm just too lazy to find out the absolute truth! XD

(Thanks you paxnirvana and sorviball for the Japanese correction!)

For **sna**, whose Kakashi/Rin stories made me think of her as a _real_ character. Hope you like!

* * *

Masking their chakra expertly, the seventeen year old Jounin fled amongst the undergrowth until they found a spot safe enough to take a moment's needed rest.

Hatake Kakashi and Inuzuka Rin had not worked with each other for over three years, and yet they seemed to fall into a familiar rhythm within minutes of confronting their enemy. Bodies moving naturally, automatically, through strategies unused since their childhood, the late Yondaime's students still couldn't seem to gain the advantage on their too-skilled opponent.

Kakashi spat out the metallic taste of blood and straightened, moving to pull the mask back over his lower face. The arm of his team-mate stopped him.

"What?" His whisper was urgent as he tensed, crouching slightly. Eyes darted to try and pick up whatever had made Rin still. "What is it?"

"I don't know if this is a fight we can both escape from." Her voice was mournful, pained, her arm still grasping his. When had her grip become so certain? When had she become so strong? "You said you recognised the jutsu?"

Kakashi's visible eye narrowed as he nodded, "It was an activating jutsu – whatever he was holding was based on living tissue, he needed to use a certain type of chakra – green, I think – to make it…pulse. I can't be sure, but that's what it looked like."

"I recognised the tissue." Her grip tightened, trimmed nails beginning to cut into his arm. Not for the first time, he hoped that their enemy could not track blood. "It's a terrible poison that takes five hours to kill a person. It has no antidote – the Suna developed it during the War, 'Kashi-kun, I've _seen_ its effects…"

He allowed the irritating pet-name – _Obito's irritating pet name – _as he watched her eyes fight back tears. They had barely spoken in the years since their sensei's death, and yet Rin was still the closest thing to family that Kakashi had.

"Rin…" He really didn't want to hear her words; He didn't want to see her shuddering face. Unlike the already famous Copy Nin, Rin had never wanted to be a shinobi, never wanted to kill people or watch them die, but Kakashi knew she had done too much of both. She had wanted to _help_ people…

They had grieved together sporadically over the years, sparred angrily through refreshing games of _My-Life-Sucks-Hardest_. After her parents had died last year, Kakashi had tried to allow the young kunoichi's touch. On the loneliest nights she would come to him, to his bare apartment in the middle of the night, riding them both to completion. She had only tried to kiss him once, and he had pulled away desperately – as if that small intimacy was any more inside of him than the months of dark rooms and almost violent caresses.

"You can't let him touch you, Kakashi. If the poison touches you, you will not survive. I can't -" She sucked in a hard breath and Kakashi struggled to remain impassive. "- You know too many jutsus, you have Obito's eye. If you die _I'll_ be the one who has to destroy your body. _I can't destroy you both._ Do you understand at all?"

"I won't let the bastard touch us." Kakashi tapped his hitae-ate, praying she didn't see his hands shake at the mention of their dead comrade's name. "That cry-baby's got our back, you see?"

She smiled carefully, pushing up the hitae-ate as he tried not to flinch, running her fingers down the scar she found there.

"You should've taken better care. It shouldn't have scarred so much." Her words were familiar, and as usual he said nothing about how much he'd _wanted_ the scar. He'd wanted to forever be reminded of all he had come so close to losing. Of all he had lost. Of how he had almost redeemed himself at the end.

Her fingers traced his cheek bone to his ear and her soft palm cupped his cheek. Kakashi refused to tremble, wanting to believe that a seventeen year old shinobi had greater things to fear than a woman's gentle touch. Rin looked nervous, possessed. As if the thing she was about to set in motion could never be undone. Kakashi had not been the only one to learn about lost chances, she had been on their team also. Rin had learned far more quickly than the stubborn, beautiful boy before her.

"If that poison touches me, I want you to kill me as soon as is possible without risking your life. I won't die like _that._" The eyes of her two best friends stared out from Kakashi's face. "Tell me you understand, Kakashi?"

For the third time in the ten years she had known Kakashi, the boy actually looked his age. Eyes wide and pleading, his entire demeanour showing his grief at her words. It wasn't what she had said, Rin knew, but that he could no more deny her than deny himself. Rin knew that also. Her eyes betrayed her, filling with tears once more.

"Don't – Please don't pull away…" Her thumb grazed his dry bottom lip as she leant in, shutting her eyes against his discomfort, needing this. Her left hand went up to grasp at the short hairs low on his neck. Numbly, Kakashi let Rin touch her lips to his, tentatively mouthing nonsense words into his lower lip. She thought she felt Kakashi smile slightly, and he finally responded, angling his head to nuzzle slightly at her cheek as he nipped at her thin top lip.

"I don't love you, Kakashi." The words were mumbled against his chin. Her breath was uncomfortably warm. "I promise I don't."

That was as close as they ever got.

Seconds later, the fierce killing intent of their opponent's chakra had burst into their sensory perception, and he spotted them - hurling weapons, insults and jutsus almost as fast as Kakashi could follow them. The renewed battle was furious; too fast, too close. As hard as he tried to keep one eye trained on his team-mate, Kakashi was simply no match for the adult shinobi while so distracted.

The enemy hit Kakashi head on with a monumental e_scape by earth_ technique – sending projectile balls of rock into the young nin, sending him flying. The next thing Kakashi remembered was hearing Rin's appalled scream – and he struggled desperately to right himself – hacking up yet more blood, directly into his mask this time – somehow finding the stamina to half-run-half-stumble over to his fallen team-mate's side.

Her bright, streaming eyes were fixed upon her chest, where several large needles littered her breast. Pulling them out quickly, Sharingan eye daring his opponent to make a move, Kakashi soothed her as best he could in his injured state, vaguely wondering why Rin – who had received far greater injuries than this – was not in the process of healing herself. She had not fought so readily as Kakashi, and so should have had far more chakra to spare on her own body. Unless…

"If you wish, Copy Nin, I will wait the necessary time. And in those hours you can watch your _girlfriend _die."

Kakashi couldn't stop the snarl that escaped him as he turned to charge the man – all logic forgotten in the wave of fearful anger that gripped him. Even in death, Rin's calm was endless, and, mouth still slack in a gaping expression of fear, she gripped her team-mate's arm. Those trimmed nails digging into his pale flesh made Kakashi crumple. He ran his hands over her hair, her face, her neck, cupping her chin, Obito's eye forcing him to _see_ the toxin's traces taint her veins…

"What do I do?" his breathless whisper cut at her. "What do you want me to do?"

"Don't let me die this way!" She leant into his touch, begging. "Please, please…not this way, not like this…Kakashi…"

x

Kakashi snapped her neck.

x

Her stunned eyes mirrored the shaken expression on Kakashi's own face, on the face of the enemy shinobi behind him. Turning slowly, he felt Rin's death run through him, felt a third wheel beginning its deadly spin in his bright red eye.

Kakashi fought the man silently, wearing him down, taking his life blow by blow. Nothing the man could say could deflect the grieving shinobi's attacks; nothing could distract the boy from his purpose.

Before Kakashi finally took his enemy's life, he held up the kinjutsu scrolls he had snatched from his opponent's vest.

"This is all I came for." Kakashi said calmly as he pocketed the flimsy rolls of paper. "But I could never let you live after _that."_

The chirping of a thousand birds filled the clearing, and Kakashi very calmly ripped his enemy's heart out. As the Copy Nin disposed of the two bodies, he couldn't help but laugh a little at the irony.

* * *

By midnight, Kakashi legs had grown numb. By the time Saturday had finally dawned, his legs had given out completely. Yet still Kakashi knelt before the monument stone, replaying those last horrific moments in his mind's vivid eye.

Kakashi wondered if, had it been mere grief latching him to his past, it would really hurt so completely. Pain, however earth shattering, had a habit of becoming habit; becoming bearable and washed out, like paint – especially in a ninja's world of blood and battle.

Regret was a far more potent hurt, a more dedicated companion.

If Kakashi had just told Rin, just once, that he had loved her, the lie would have soothed some empty pain she'd felt in that last year. If he'd have just _stayed_ in her presence, talked to her, trained with her, _been_ _there for her_… Perhaps the end would've been the same, but there may have been some peace in those fearful eyes, before their light went out completely.

If Kakashi had just saved Obito, then Rin would have eventually shifted her focus onto him. If he'd have just _listened_ when the boy ranted about companionship, and compassion, and instinct... If he'd have let the other boy known that he was there for him, rather than defending him only when he wasn't around to hear it, rather than teasing and goading the black haired boy – but that had been Kakashi's _right_, after all. Obito was _his_ team-mate. _His_ friend. _His _rival. Kakashi, despite their many intense disagreements, had protected Obito from countless dangers, attackers, and bullies; taught the other boy moves, jutsus, tricks, hints, skills…

It hadn't been enough, somehow.

Maybe if Kakashi had just _trusted_ his sensei when he'd had the chance. Maybe if he'd responded when the older man offered comfort, care, games, rest. Maybe, if he'd found a way to swallow his scared pride he could've _been_ the child that the Yellow Flash had so often tried to cajole out of the cold little shinobi that he'd really been. And then he might've understood Obito's games. Might've been able to prevent their team's horrific disbanding.

Kakashi had a lot of regrets, and wasn't really sure what to do with them.

* * *

Jiraiya liked to be early for any meeting he had.

Hiding in a tree, watching Naruto stomp around cursing his ero-sennin's name, parentage and hair-do, Jiraiya tried to hold back the bubbling giggle at the sight. It was hard for Jiraiya to believe that someone who had been so exposed to both himself and his student's protégé could seriously compare their tardy or perverted habits.

True enough, Jiraiya had personally introduced Kakashi to the first of his best-selling _Icha Icha_ series, but the silver-haired kid wasn't _genuinely_ all that perverted. He loved his porn for the _plot_ for anyone's sake, and the Toad Hermit had almost been shocked at the Copy Nin's habit of carrying it around with him – until, that is, he noticed the commotion everyone _around_ Kakashi was making. Then of course, it all made _perfect_ sense.

But Naruto's two instructors were tardy for entirely different reasons. Kakashi marched to his own beat, these days and very often simply didn't realise he'd lost track of time. If late on a mission, however, you knew it would be for a better reason than his supposed _road on the path of life_! Jiraiya was (almost) never late, but if he had learned anything from the Hatake brat it was that being underestimated was not such a bad thing.

Not to mention the chance to perfect his voyeuristic prowess by _analysing_ his targets before showing himself. A good pervert, Jiraiya felt, was one who could successfully balance all responsibilities. A good ninja needed that skill too, of course.

Another life lesson Jiraiya adhered to almost devoutly, was that one _could not be awesome all the tim_e, and as Naruto got to a particularly creative rant – amusing Jiraiya into falling from his concealed perch – Jiraiya's expectation for the rest of the day improved dramatically.

* * *

There were only so many places a grieving Kakashi could be. Maito Gai had worriedly searched them all. Kakashi was not in the training fields, nor was he in the indoor fitness centre. He was not with his students, nor was he with the rest of the elite Jounin. Asuma kindly informed Gai that he had not seen the Copy Nin since Shourei's birthday, and the concerned look the combat-expert gave the Green Beast troubled him no end.

Eventually, after checking every other place in the village, Gai tried the monument, shocked to see Kakashi kneeling before the regal black stone, his hands lying limply in his lap.

Gai returned ten minutes later, two foam cups of hot tea in his hands and a bunch of flowers under an arm, and sat down cross legged beside his friend.

"Ah! Kakashi, my rival! I didn't expect to see you here!" Gai's cheerful greeting didn't evoke any kind of response, and Gai's brow wrinkled anxiously. "I brought some tea, here!"

Kakashi didn't respond again, and Gai picked up his rival's hand, holding it gently against the warm cup. After a few seconds the Copy Nin looked down, hand closing around the stiff foam.

"Thanks."

Gai hadn't expected the whispered response, hadn't expected Kakashi's hands to shake so violently as he raised the cup to his masked lips, tugging the cloth down by instinct at the last second. Gai steadied that trembling hand with his own, for a rare moment allowing the silence to go unchecked.

Some tension seemed to leave Kakashi's exposed eye at the sudden heat of the liquid, and Gai moved himself closer to his comrade, taking the opportunity to lay a flamboyant bouquet beneath a familiar etching.

"Oh - I forgot…" Kakashi's tender words shook Gai, would have moved him to tears had he thought Kakashi could stand the affection.

"You always do, I bought extra this year!" Gai's overly casual words didn't camouflage his unease, but Kakashi seemed to accept them, even thanked him for the thought.

Maito Gai did not like complex emotions; he didn't like having to pry the layers from Sharingan Kakashi merely to glimpse the tip of an iceberg that was pretending to be a river. The utter naivety of those shinobi who thought a strong drink would erase the Copy Nin's guilt; or a hug would mend his broken heart; those shinobi made him laugh.

"Did something come up?" Gai boldly attempted to start a conversation, drive away the awkward chill. "Aren't you usually here in the mornings?"

"Hmm?" Kakashi's bemused eye was horribly devoid of feeling. "What time is it?"

"Noon." Gai's single word echoed around them in its nervous bravado. It had been ten years since Rin's death, and he'd known Kakashi would be upset – but Konoha's Green Beast had optimistically assumed that his rival's wounds would have healed with time.

Rin had been beautiful in Gai's jealous eyes. Young and gentle and calm, though when moved to anger, her eyes would flash strikingly against her tanned complexion, and her furious grace would proclaim her excellence as a Kunoichi. The only time Gai had seen Rin truly deadly was when she was protecting Kakashi; the only time he had seen her truly content was when Kakashi had needed her.

Gai made no secret of how he saw himself in Rock Lee. It was in the way the boy tried so hard to overcome his personal demons, in the way he ignored the demons of his genius rivals to maintain his own goal. But Gai could also see himself in the way his student chased unceasingly after Haruno Sakura, the way he deflated when she would ignore him in favour of a mere glance from the stoic Uchiha heir. Gai hoped that Naruto never died, that Sakura never died, that his students could live the lives his generation had started to, before everything had gone to shit.

Kakashi had earned Gai's respect in a way that few other people could. He styled himself on the strength of the other shinobi, appreciated the wit and strange humour that the other man possessed. Though Gai called their 'rivalry' the deciding factor between the skills genius and hard work, Gai was not fool enough to really believe that Kakashi was purely genius, but he _was_ beginning to suspect Kakashi needed the constant impetus as much as Gai himself did.

Maito Gai was loyal to a fault, and while he may not have been subtle or stealthy or terribly understanding, he liked to think he _knew_ his rival, like he knew himself. Kakashi was a simple being to understand, when you had been as consistent to each other's lives as they had. He would be loyally and generously yours for as long as you refused to acknowledge that fact. He would guard your back and walk at your side, as long as you let him alone when he wanted seclusion. He would not injure you, or pry into you, so long as, in return, you didn't dig to deep.

So when Kakashi's demons began to overwhelm him, and he lost track of the time and the date and himself and the world, Gai knew that Kakashi wasn't looking for sympathy, he was looking for an anchor.

"It is my turn to choose, Kakashi!" Gai stated boldly, "And I Challenge you to a Taijutsu Fight!"

Gai supposed that he had loved Rin, in a way – and he supposed that if _that_ made sense, then he must love Kakashi also. He knew that he needed his fellow shinobi, that the man was one of the few anchors Gai had left in an intimidating world that he often barely understood.

Kakashi gave a small huff of laughter and – despite its bitter cadence – for Gai, it was enough.

* * *

On Monday 13th May, Shikamaru received a Very Official Looking Letter.  
The Very Official Looking Letter read thus:

x

CLASSIFIED DOCUMENTS ENCLOSED

**From**: ANBU – Stg Ops. (T&I) - Un2  
**Auth. Code:** 0X076598REC.

**TO**: Nara Shikamaru, Chuunin.  
**Reg**: #012611  
**C/O**: Saratobi Asuma.

Chuunin,

Following your highly successful training practical in our compound - namely, your recent achievements into leading a Blind Operative effectively through a low level A-class scenario – on behalf of the ANBU Strategic Operations Department, I would like to invite you to an informal reception, to be held this coming Thursday 16th May, to discuss any future benefits that may be mutually gained through the further development of the skills you displayed on your recent course.

We have taken the liberty of sending a letter to your sensei, Elite Jounin Saratobi Asuma, informing him of the ANBU's offer and inviting him to the reception also. Please inform us should this be inconvenient, and we will make amendments to suit your needs.

Please confirm your attendance by filling in the adjoined form and returning it to the Mission Desk in the envelope provided.

We hope to be hearing from you shortly.

Sincerely,

**ANBU Locust,  
**Head of Interrogation Unit 2.

x

Shikaku, reading over his son's shoulder, grasped his arm tightly.

"Well. You've certainly impressed _them_." Shikamaru knew his father well enough to know that he wasn't entirely pleased with the idea – the ANBU were a force many nin held reservations against – but the old man was also immensely proud of his son, that much was obvious from the shine in his eyes.

"They just want to meet with me," Shikamaru wasn't entirely sure why his stomach was filled suddenly with butterflies. "Nothing will come of it…"

"Don't you be so sure!" Shikaku's voice held a note of certainty that was usually only present when speaking of women. "The ANBU don't ask people to come visit them in a _reception_ for nothing! They don't butter up people who they don't _keep_, Shikamaru, use your head!"

Shikamaru smiled slightly at the familiar rebuttal, before staring contemplatively down at his letter once more.

* * *

Tuesday morning saw countless ANBU operatives lining the Hokage's office.

Many of the younger ones, the fresh ones, eager to show off their skill and prowess, were crouched, spider-like, on the walls and ceilings of the room. The ANBU Hound – a veritable institute of Konoha's Dark Forces – not to be outdone by newbies, leant casually on the window frame of the normally spacious-seeming room. He shared a mocking nod with the Locust, stood dauntingly in the centre of the room.

"ANBU, thank you for joining us here today." The Godaime Hokage began her speech in a distinctly authoritative tone.

"Uh-oh," whispered a purple haired kunoichi in the Hound's ear. "Sounds ominous!"

The ANBU smirked behind his dog mask, inclining his head in the force's classic silent display of amusement as the Hokage continued.

"After consulting the surviving elite shinobi of the Third Secret War, we have decided upon a preliminary defensive strategy. We will soon be putting measures in place to prepare the medical and weaponry bunkers from the Second War, for use to our advantage. By 'prepare,' I of course mean that you will be addressing the structure of the bunkers, the security of them. In the coming weeks it will be your primary responsibility to turn these empty craters into _feasible strategic_ _outposts. _I trust that I am making myself clear?" Tsunade took the pervading silence as an affirmative. "Then I hope it is a satisfying challenge for you newer recruits."

The Hokage smirked visibly as the older shinobi each inclined their heads. The mime-like, canonic actions of so many dark troops made her hair stand slightly on end; even Jiraiya straightened slightly in a defensive gesture. That same fearful unison was repeated as a low whine emitted from a shinobi in the centre of the room. The swift rushing of fabric echoed as dozens of masked white faces whipped around to witness the offending note.

The Hound, realising what was happening, grabbed the spider-like recruit on the wall beside him by the collar, dragging him over to the Locust's side.

"Not here." The Hound whispered harshly. "This is not the place, shinobi!"

As the Hound turned his head to the front of the room, witnessing the Hokage's sympathetic nod, he transported the three ANBU shinobi to Morino Ibiki's apartment, immediately despositing the Locust on the bed.

"Take off your mask." The Hound removed his own mask, and Genma's eyes widened as Kakashi pulled his hitae-ate over that deep red eye.

"Can you remove Ibiki's armour? And mask?" Kakashi disappeared into his small bathroom; Genma heard taps running as the Copy Nin – _The ANBU Hound, fuck! – _filled a small bowl with cool water.

"Ibiki-san?" Genma was absolutely stunned. "The Locust is Ibiki?"

"Genma," Kakashi had returned to the small room, armour gone, and began to wipe a trembling Morino Ibiki's brow with a damp cloth. "You're here because I can't do this by myself, ok? Just shut up and help?"

Genma, to whom bravado was second nature, was as shocked by the admission as he was by the placing of trust. But then, if what Raidou had told him was true, Kakashi hadn't exactly grown up in a world where bravado was important. Growing up as a _soldier _instead of as a _child,_ Genma figured that asking for help when it was needed was a necessary feature of _not dying_. Genma, looking at Kakashi's resigned concern, had never felt more thankful for his parents' insistence on a pleasant childhood.

"Sure, man, of course." Genma was unusually quiet. "What do you need?"

At that moment, Ibiki let out a pathetic stream of noise.

Kakashi merely talked over it.

"_Burning I'm **burning**, oh please, I cant -"_

"You've been told about breaking, right? This is Ibiki's way."

"_-breathe, it's too **hot** too hot I can't you have to, get **out**! Get-"_

"He doesn't break very often, but they've been working him hard lately. He reverts back to a memory that has visual damage, because he thinks that'll help him heal the internal scars." Kakashi was rubbing Ibiki's back soothingly with the heel of his hand. Kneading at tense muscles as the man clawed at himself, sobbing like a child. _Ibiki, like a fucking child!_

"_-out, please, don't die, don't die, I can't, you're all, my **family**, please -"_

"I've seen him break once before, it was horrible." Kakashi's frown was obvious through the mask. "If he's consistent, he'll start fighting us. I'll need your help holding him down."

Genma was gaping freely, unable to put this information together in his mind. Ibiki was unshakeable. Ibiki was _unshakeable_. Ibiki was stone.

He fished desperately for a different topic of conversation, but Kakashi was insistent.

"I thought we weren't allowed to show ourselves to anyone but touchstones?"

"The ANBU have _official_ rules, Genma, but we have _house_ rules as well." Kakakashi smirked. "We help each other, we have to - no-one else gives a fuck. ANBU is a dirty word, you know?"

"Wh – what are the rules?" Genma didn't know why his mouth was so dry, hated his own weakness, the shocked tears in his eyes. Ibiki was pushing harshly at Kakashi's shirt front; the other man continued his soothing contact even as his words became cold.

"There are four main rules that we stick to. Rule one: ANBU operatives do not address each other by name unless a team-mate is dying or 'breaking.'" Genma shuddered at Kakashi's shut-off tone. "Rule two: ANBU will ignore a 'breaking' comrade unless aid is requested, or the shinobi needs removing from a public arena."

Ibiki struck Kakashi unexpectedly in the jaw, knocking him from the bed. Genma lunged immediately, pinning the fearsome man's arms, cooing comforting nonsense in his ear. Kakashi didn't say a word, just resumed rubbing Ibiki's back. For an hour they remained that way, Genma hugging the feared interrogation expert, Kakashi kneeling on the floor, soothing him. Finally, when Ibiki fell asleep, Kakashi motioned for them both to leave.

"Rule three." The Copy Nin whispered as he prepared to transport himself home. "If you are witness to a comrade's breaking, it stays confidential and off-record. You do _not_ run your mouth about one of your own. Which means _we never mention this again_." Genma nodded, beginning to tremble.

"What's rule four?"

"Don't break on the field."

Genma had never heard Kakashi sound so intense, had never realised how _hard_ being an ANBU could be. He wanted this though, he would make this work.

"Don't bother going back to the meeting, I'll get the information for us tomorrow." Kakashi hesitated. "I know it's hard, Genma, but you're capable of this work. It isn't just ANBU who break you know? Shinobi do it all the time, we're just trained to hide it… so…if you need anything…"

"I'll ask." Genma had never been more grateful. Kakashi nodded, satisfied, before disappearing from sight.

Genma went home to Raidou, not bothering to disguise his clumsy, trembling need. If Raidou was shocked, he never showed it.

* * *

Kakashi felt like he was standing on a knife's edge, constantly waiting for the _next_ thing to go horribly wrong, the next shoe to drop. The experiences of the past few days had taught the Copy Nin that anyone could break at any time. That you had to expect anything, from anyone, because they would always finds a way to make things worse. He hadn't expected it from his students.

"Sensei…" Naruto looked unusually sober; Sakura's eyes were bright and worried. "It's Sasuke. We can't get through…"

Kakashi followed his students to the Uchiha main house, where Sasuke _still_ insisted on residing. In the short walk (though he'd sooner have just transported them all) Kakashi learned about Sasuke's occasional mood swings, his rapid withdrawal into himself. How it had become so much worse since his return to Konoha.

Kakashi, if not for his own personal crises, would've been more concerned, but he knew from experience how easy it was for a child prodigy to hide the truth from the world.

"We just… we just can't get through." Naruto repeated when they got to the house.

There was very good reason for that, Kakashi realised, studying the intricacies of Sasuke's barricade. Luckily, however, being a kick-arse ninja meant you could practically walk through walls so long as you knew the right jutsu. Kakashi knew a lot of jutsus.

By the time Sakura and Naruto had managed to manoeuvre their way through their team-mate's traps, Kakashi was sitting cross legged on the floor, knee to knee in front of the vacant eyed Uchiha heir. For a long time Kakashi seemed to study the boy as rocked back and forth slightly; eyes wet and furious.

"People live in the past so they never forget it." Kakashi tried to sound comforting; failed. Tried to sound teacher-ish; failed. His voice was a pitiless whisper, blunt and certain, and Naruto had to move closer to hear it, hovering uncertainly. "But what's the point if instead of honouring your dead, you just drag their ghosts behind you, uselessly?"

Sasuke's blank eyes focused red on his teacher; if he'd been in any other mood he would have lunged for the older man, ripped his eye out.

Kakashi didn't seemed at all fazed, just looked around at the old house sceptically. Obito had lived just across the street; Kakashi had been trained in the Sharingan by the Uchihas that'd lived just next door. This didn't look like the home of a proud, often arrogant clan. It looked like a tomb.

"When my father – passed, I found that moving out of his house helped a lot. To get some distance, you know?" Kakashi hated the words, hyper aware of the curious students stood behind him. "It didn't help me to forget, but I could consider it better."

"Don't sit there pretending you _know_ how I _feel!"_ Sasuke's voice was sand-paper rough, a sound the Copy Nin remembered from his own arguments with Obito, with Yondaime. A sound he recognised even now sometimes, in Naruto.

"I wouldn't _want_ to know how you _feel_, Sasuke." Kakashi's commanding tone shocked the Uchiha, left his wide eyes quivering. Kakashi paused for too long, gathering courage to say what Sasuke _had to hear. _"Been there, done that; I much prefer to live the dreams of those I've lost than to let them down through my own despair." - '_When I'm lucid enough to try it.' – _To his relief, Kakashi's voice was a lot stronger than he'd thought it would be.

The silence was brooding, heavy. Long. "…How did your father die?"

"What happened to 'not knowing how you feel'?" Kakashi couldn't resist the smirked response, he felt like a stubborn child. Felt like an Uchiha.

"Tell me." Kakashi should've just said no. Shouldn't have brought it all up again for the sake of one little brat. Should've just let the kid stew in himself for a little longer, should've been more comforting, more strict.

"He killed himself when I very young." He smiled casually, emphasising the impeccable steadiness of his voice; knowing how well it distracted Sasuke.

"How young?" Perfectly brutal. As ever.

"I was Seven. Though it started before that, really." Kakashi was careful to make his answers of a decent length, careful not to be too curt lest his students see his vulnerability. - _'Don't think about it. Don't go there.'_- He was a shinobi.

"…I'm sorry."

"Shaa… no harm done. Now that we've had this little chat, you may have the rest of the day off. All three of you. I will see you _all_ tomorrow." Kakashi formed the hand seals of a particularly flashy transportation. "And Sasuke?"

The dark haired boy looked up sharply as his teacher continued. "Don't make the mistake of thinking you're alone."

As Kakashi left Sasuke to his grief, Naruto and Sakura sat themselves beside him.

* * *

Team Konohamaru's self appointed mission had gone smoothly. So smoothly, in fact, that nobody seemed to have even _noticed_ the missing photo album. And it wasn't like it had been some small, unmarked book either. The album stolen by Moegi and Udon had been a thick book, concealed in the bottom drawer of the Hokage's desk. They'd had to _pick through locks_ to get at it.

For almost a week – for six whole days – Konohamaru's team had not touched the book. They hadn't _dared_ to try and evade their vigilant (and angry) sensei in order to go to their hiding spot. That Thursday, however, while the skies had cleared and the world was so beautiful, they just couldn't take it any longer.

Meeting extra early, Udon acted as look-out while Moegi and Konohamaru eased the book from its place. The excitement and suspense was uncontrollable. They would finally see the culmination of all their planning and care!

Calling their team-mate over, they peeled back the dusty – now slightly muddy first page of the album. Ignoring the inscription on the title page, they were startled to be confronted by pages upon pages of…

…some kids they didn't know.

Typical. All that work - and they didn't even discover any blackmail on their new Hokage!

A spiky haired shadow suddenly feel upon the open page Konohamaru's fist had just come down upon, and the three shocked Gennin whirled around to find Uzumaki Naruto grinning down at them.

"And what exactly are _you three_ looking at?" Naruto's expression – from his cocky stance to his wide, cheeky grin, announced to the three Gennin _'You've been caught – 'fess up!'_

"We – we _found_ it!" Konohamaru yelled in his nervousness. Naruto snickered.

"It's true Naruto-niisan! We found it here!" Moegi came immediately to her team-mate's defence.

Naruto knew their look. He'd _perfected_ that look. He couldn't possibly know that Umino Iruka had _invented_ that look. They were sooooo guilty. He peered over their heads to see what appeared to be a picture of a very young Hatake Kakashi! Naruto grabbed at the album, taking a closer inspection – A very young Hatake Kakashi with _both eyes!_

Naruto, grinning – half at the discovery, half at his friends' dismayed expressions - flipped to the front, read through the inscription and… stopped.

A long minute passed before Naruto could trust his voice. "Did you read this?"

"No, Naruto-niisan, we just looked at the pictures."

"Well!" Naruto plastered on a fake grin, wanting to return this book as soon as possible. "I'll just give it back to its owner then! Thanks for finding it!"

Naruto, ignoring their frustrated yells, all but vanished.

X

Naruto didn't go immediately to Team 7's meeting spot, knowing that would be the _last_ place he'd find his sensei. He tried Kakashi's home, the training grounds, the hot spa where Jiraiya-pervert frequented. He eventually asked the Ichiraku owner, who advised him to look at the monument.

"Konohamaru-chan found it, Kakashi-sensei." Naruto had read the inscription many times, and, as he handed the book over, wondered slightly how Kakashi could've lost it so easily.

"What is it?"

"Your photo album, sensei!" Naruto lost all sympathy as Kakashi played dumb. Stupid, crazy teachers and their weird weirdness.

"I don't own any photo albu -" Kakashi had begun to flick through the book as he spoke, coming to the writing at the front. Naruto couldn't help but notice the abrupt tension in Kakashi's body, the way his eye steeled suddenly at the words on the page.

"Please tell Sakura and Sasuke that I won't be present for today's training." His tone did not leave room for questioning.

"Ye- yes sensei."

"Thank you for this, Naruto." Kakashi's voice was strong, and Naruto was somewhat comforted that he hadn't hurt his teacher by giving him that book. It was the right and straight-forward thing to do, anyway. That was his Nindo. Naruto left to join his team.

For Kakashi, the world closed in swiftly, and he unexpectedly found - gazing at that once familiar fluid handwriting - that he just couldn't take anymore.

Clutching the book tightly to his chest, Kakashi transported to his bedroom, absently summoning his dogs, barely finding time to pull his covers over his head against the hopeless sobs overtook his form.

* * *

'_Dear Kakashi, _

_Well, tomorrow's the big day! I know I can leave you with very little that you will appreciate, awkward little brat that you are._

_I hope you find I have taught you enough to be strong, and brave, and compassionate. Above all things, they've been harsh lessons that you have had to learn, but I think one day you'll find them worth something, in the end._

_I have always tried to teach you as best I can could. Forgive me that there was not the time to teach you more. Not that you'd need it, knowing you. Stubborn little git. You were always too **young** for this life, but continue to prove your worth and your strength everyday; even as you continue to be an arrogant, stubborn, lazy, defiant... _

_You'll never believe me, Kakashi, because you're like that – but I am so proud of you._

_I leave this for you so that, when all is said and done and you no doubt find something to feel guilty about, when you become an adult and wish to apologise a thousand times for all that you've put poor, kind, lovely **me** through over the years, you cannot deny that we had some fun together, the four of us!_

_I know you don't like sentimental things like this, but it's tough. I get the last word this time, I'm afraid.  
__Do me a final favour, though, and live well for our sakes?_

_Your loving sensei.'_

x

On the facing page was a photograph taken when Kakashi was nine years old, and had just been placed in his first real team. It was the same image that was framed on Kakashi's windowsill, except that this was the Yellow Flash's copy, and written beneath it, in the same fluid script, were the simple words: "_me and the kids!"_

* * *

**END OF CH 7!**

**x**

**Thanks to: **(maybe this is annoying, but I feel rude not writing back! XD)

**Guile: **lmao! Thank you! (and there is much PTSD-ness here…:S)

**Nezuko: **wow, thank you! I think we are very much with the mutual appreciation, because the gritty sense of realism is something I've loved in all your fics, and have been trying to grab a sense of in this! If I thought I could write such intense pain as what you seem to be able to capture, it's all I'd do! I'm a sucker for angsting up the tough ones XD

**Paxnirvana:** thank you! I was really worried about the pace, it's getting really jolt-y again, but if it works… lol XD

**Sna: **ducks behind keyboard heehee, I said there would be Rin, there was Rin… don't hurt me? But I totally the 'rampant eccentricities' of the higher Jounin, lets face it, they're all complete nut-jobs. I supposed you'd have to be…

**Sorviball:** thank you! And hey, feel free to list; apart from the lovely ego-boost it's nice to know what's working and what's not! Thanks a lot! XD

**Tami: **Thanks! That's exactly the feel I was going for, I know that lesson kinda well myself, lol! I couldn't help but write out the blubbery Kakashi. I blame you for helping put the idea in my head! Cheers! XD

**The-MarmaladeCat1: **XD thank you _sooo_ much! I'm totally shocked! Thank you. XD

**Telosphilos: **Thank you for giving me so much to think about!

Thanks also to: **Luvwiz, Masked Shinobi, ninjabetter, blue lady198, Azamiko, Rane Metal,** **esther,** and **Jemiul!**


	8. 08

**Notes:** Outside of my window, there's a huge bush with a blackbird nest. But it's more like a blackbird commune. There are about three separate nests and they've ALL had a busy spring. Today, a magpie got into the bush, and every single blackbird there went all crazy-like. No one got the chidori joke. sigh

The time jumps around a lot, though I've tried to make it as clear as possible. Please let me know if it's too vague, I'll date each part or something XD!  
Also, at least part of this is for _WinterOfOurDiscontent_, who made me want to know more about the album as well! XD

**Thank you so much for all the kind reviews! And thanks to everyone reading! As usual, Criticism welcome, thanks are below!**

(Also, because I'm shameless, I wrote a sort of companion piece for chapter 7, called 'shell shock.' The only reason it wasn't included in the chapter itself was because of the angst overload. It doesn't have any relation to the main plot of this fic, so there's no need to read it, but I thought I'd pimp it anyway! lol XD!)

* * *

Tuesday, for Iruka's pre-Gennin classes, was Weapon's Training. It was, generally speaking, Early enough in the week for his students to still be lethargically mourning their last weekend, but not late enough for them to be looking forward to the next one. Put simply, Iruka felt that Tuesday was the only _safe_ day to give his students sharp objects and expect to come away with only the standard number of orifices – because on a Tuesday, the horrid little brats weren't hyper enough to give serious thought to murdering one another for the fun of it. (He had learned well from Hyuuga Neji's graduating class.)

Umino Iruka had been a pre-Gennin teacher for quite a few years now, though, and his main success in teaching his kids was that he never underestimated them.

He'd been one once, after all.

Another advantage of holding Weapons Training on a Tuesday was that it gave him an extra day to mark the previous day's homework. Iruka worked his students hard; half to drill them into efficiency, half to exhaust them into forgetting the grades they were owed. By the end of the year, the likely graduates should have picked up on the ploy, and begun to question their sensei.

Tuesday the 14th had been one of the best practises this year's group had taken part in. The aim, accuracy and power of even the youngest students' throws had improved steadily over the year, leaving Iruka with high hopes for this year's end exams. It was almost a shame the quality of their written work hadn't grown _quite_ as steadily!

Iruka was so lost in his scrutiny of one boy's _atrocious _handwriting, that he didn't notice the rapping on his front door until the lock physically clicked open, startling Iruka into a defensive stance.

"Yo, Iruka?" the voice of a certain Jounin sang across the hallway, making Iruka smile to himself as he sat back down. "Are you there?"

"In the main room!" he called out.

Kakashi, Iruka had come to realise in the years of their friendship turned whatever-you'd-call-this-now, was painfully shy. No. Perhaps that was the wrong word for it. He was…_ careful_.

His every action screamed control – the effortlessly graceful slouch, the expression of absolute indifference. Naruto could be dancing naked in front of his Jounin sensei – _Sasuke_ could be dancing naked in front of his Jounin sensei – and the most they'd probably get would be a raised eyebrow. He was careful with his reactions, as well. In Iruka's new, tentative exploration of the Copy Nin he had often found that Kakashi would not speak while being touched, didn't like to be petted or held or soothed like a normal person. Even the few times Iruka had seen the older shinobi in a rage, Iruka's comforting hand or worried touch would do nothing to calm the other man, one time it had almost made it worse.

Kakashi's words were _obsessively_ careful - unless he was moved to arrogance, the last stage in Kakashi's defence mechanisms before he'd just disappear on you completely. The only time Iruka had heard Kakashi use the word _home_, for instance, had been when referring to lost shinobi returning to Konoha. The only time he'd heard him say _"I'm afraid"_ was as the precursor to another implausible lie.

_I'm afraid I'm unable to return your book, sensei. I had to use it to fend off a giant whale._

Of course, a week later, he'd finally seen Naruto, fresh from their mission to Snow Country – and he'd learned about Kakashi's new 'summon-a-huge-giant-whale' ninjutsu, as described by Naruto. Iruka had known that the lie was still a lie, but he wondered how much Kakashi had really been telling him.

"Yo," Iruka was pulled from his thoughts by Kakashi's low voice in front of him. "You're light was on…"

Iruka smiled up at the Jounin, looked cheekily at his watch. Seven pm. "Let me guess – you're after my cooking?"

"Hm? No, actually. Just company. I spent the day finding interesting ways to skip an ANBU meeting. I forgot how eventful those things can be." Iruka grinned at Kakashi's light tone of voice, seeing a story in there somewhere.

"Any gossip is good gossip…" Iruka stood to tug Kakashi's mask down, glad when the man didn't pull away.

"Mm…I shouldn't stay too long...I have to think of a way to torture the brats tomorrow." The hint was clear, and Iruka was pleased to find himself only slightly distracted by that pretty pout.

"Ah, fine. Put the kettle on while I finish this marking and then I'll help you torture your _students_!"

A small, almost triumphant smirk crossed the Jounin's face as Kakashi made his way to the kitchen. Iruka could hear the other man pottering about, seemingly searching his cupboards – _nosy bastard - _and was comforted by the small noises drifting through the parting. Once or twice, Iruka heard a sigh, or a heavy _whump _as Kakashi flopped down onto a chair.

The sounds were strange coming from the graceful Jounin, but Iruka had heard from a couple of shinobi that this week had been a bad one for his friend – an anniversary of a friend's death that would probably only drag on the trauma of those last horrid missions the man had been on. Iruka hardly expected Kakashi to be some bright and dauntless ray of sunshine, so didn't think anything of the almost out-of-sync behaviour – like that beautiful, needy pitch to his greeting as he had walked through the door.

After a while, a stream of pained curses drifted through the small parting of the two rooms, and Iruka walked slowly into his kitchen, bemused and, at first, only a little concerned. Kakashi was slumped on a chair - with hands, like claws, shaking in his lap, the kettle lying on its side on the floor, hot water seeping out of it – if that sight shocked Iruka, not even he realised it.

Iruka quickly wiped the boiling liquid from the floor, dumping the kettle on the side before dragging Kakashi up swiftly, running his gloved hands under cold water until the sink filled. Pushing those shaking hands beneath the water – holding them down as the Copy Nin pulled at them by instinct, gasping at the shock of cold – Iruka peeled back the gloves to ensure the skin was soothed fully.

"It's so cold…" Kakashi gasped, leaning into Iruka's body, reminding him fearfully of the lost, exhausted Kakashi of weeks ago.

"Fucking idiot," mumbled the Chuunin fondly, burying his nose into the Copy Nin's exposed temple, kissing him. "What _are_ you like?"

Kakashi turned his head, catching Iruka's lips with his own, shutting the Chuunin up, shutting himself off. Kakashi didn't like to be touched and teased all at once, but Iruka knew he needed it. If only to hold him here, in some sense of normality.

Kakashi grew gradually more needy, more insistent, harder, bolder, hotter - at some point, the two shinobi made it to the bed – all teeth and tongues and soft and – cold, numb fingers tingling painfully as they ran down an arching spine – making both men gasp.

At some point, Iruka remembered what it had been like to mourn.

* * *

Nobody had seen the Copy Nin for three days before his team-mates began to question it. Gai had explained, in part, what Kakashi had been like on the anniversary of Rin's death, only five days prior, and it had been pretty much expected that the shinobi would want some space. Hatake Kakashi, while the rest of the Elite Jounin considered him one of their own, had always been a loner. In terms of experience, he all but outranked them; in terms of what he'd done and seen, he pretty much outranked them; in terms of his own insanity, he outranked them. They loved him like a brother (if a scarily efficient, completely bat-shit, eternally frustrating, sort of brother); but that didn't mean they had to _get_ him.

Eventually, rumours of shaking hands and ANBU missions and _inherited insanity_ caught Jiraiya's finely tuned ears, and he decided to put a stop to it. He met their vicious rumours with one of his own, and soon, the gossip vine was buzzing again.

_Kakashi's losing his touch, you know? Jiraiya-sama's been training him!  
__THAT pervert?  
__Oh yeah!_

Jiraiya had looked everywhere, checked every gate, every guard, every file, every recent record. He was shocked to finally find Kakashi, on Sunday morning, curled up helplessly in his small apartment.

The door had been unlocked, though an enormous bulldog had slumped against it, guarding its master. Kakashi had a better relationship with his summons than almost any ninja the Toad Hermit knew. His eight trained dogs were effortlessly brilliant, aware of their skills and what was expected of them – and so long as Kakashi occasionally gave them some pointless affection, each of them would gladly give their lives for their masked master.

What Jiraiya hadn't expected, aside from those eight, _trained _nin-dogs, were the couple of dozen _other_ canine summons that packed Kakashi's tiny apartment. Pakkun, of course, had pride of place on Kakashi's pillow, large wet nose against the Copy Nin's shivering temple. A couple of large, white wolf-hounds nudged lovingly at their master's quilt-covered form.

Jiraiya, moving carefully over the dogs littering the entire floor, accidentally stepped on a small dog's unnaturally long tail and was startled at the pained yelp. Anxious not to offend, Jiraiya quickly bent to scritch apologetically behind the sniffling puppy's ear. Though some of the dogs looked up, not a single one made a move or sound towards him; the Sannin briefly wondered if they would even move without their broken master's command. Pakkun's huge, mournful eyes narrowed as he surveyed Jiraiya, and he crawled slowly across Kakashi to stand at the end of the bed. Another dog – wearing sunglasses – eagerly leapt up to Pakkun's vacated spot nearer to their master.

"What do you want?" Pakkun sounded fiercer than Jiraiya had ever heard him.

"To make sure he's alright. That's all." The Toad Hermit made his voice as soothing as possible, maintaining eye contact as his own summons liked, not realising how this would agitate the pug.

"You're not supposed to be here."

At the words, Pakkun's tail flew between his legs– and every dog in the room stood, growling. The crescendo of noise made the hairs rise on the back of Jiraiya's neck, made Kakashi toss restlessly in his child-like slumber. As the huge pack of dogs, teeth bared, hackles raised, began to prowl menacingly towards Jiraiya, the Sannin gave up trying to play nice.

He flew through a small series of hand seals and stamped twice on the wooden floor, smirking at nothing as the dogs vanished.

Jiraiya contemplated what he could possibly do next. He'd never seen the brat break, though he been aware of it once or twice over the years. Kakashi would drag himself through his grief until everyone around him thought he would snap, then disappear for a few days – appearing later, tired, a little easily confused, but stronger than before. Fearless again.

The old man sat on Kakashi's bed, trying to ignore the slight acidic smell of urine clinging to the sheets. He ran an insistent finger over the Jounin's tear-tracked cheeks, over his brow, trying to smooth away the deep creases with a gentle pad. Kakashi whimpered, close to waking, and Jiraiya dug a soothing hand through sweaty silver hair until the boy's restless noises ceased.

Jiraiya pulled the covers from Kakashi's form, intending to clean him up and get him somewhere a little less depressing, but was stopped by a thick book clutched against the kid's chest. Jiraiya tugged at it, taking a grasping hand in his own when Kakashi began to whine again, and rested the book on his lap as he opened it. As soon as he'd read the inscription he'd realised what must've happened.

_Sandaime_,Jiraiya sent up a silent prayer._ What were you thinking of?_

Jiraiya flicked through the album – smiling fondly every now and then, as a wave of nostalgia made him squeeze a little at Kakashi's hand.

But, just _look _at this picture!_ (A young Kakashi – a tiny Kakashi – drowning in an enormous Chuunin vest – Yondaime biting his lip to keep from laughing at the poor boy's sour expression as he struggled to see past the green collar.)  
_

There was this picture: (_where Obito and Kakashi were both grinning, for once, though guiltily – the small stain on Obito's goggles the only clue that they were the reason for their sensei's odd green colouration. All because an eleven year old Kakashi had been injured in battle and Obito had insisted on cheering his team-mate up – spurning on a wave of pranks that had put the Yellow Flash's own streak of mischief to shame.)_

Oh, or this one: _(Wherein the Yellow Flash was **literally** holding his nine year old students off the ground by the scruffs of their necks while Rin looked on, laughing freely at their young, furious expressions.)_

Jiraiya could remember taking a few of these himself, and wondered who'd been around to take the others. The later ones, of just Yondaime, Kakashi and Rin had probably been taken by his student's fiancée (and oh, how Jiraiya had teased him when he'd finally settled down!), and the few pictures of the couple had obviously been taken by Kakashi – who was the only shinobi he knew that could make pictures of benches look like pornography.

The Yellow Flash had spent his last few nights making the album; Jiraiya could remember him dutifully looking through stacks of images, looking for something that Jiraiya couldn't see. Some spark of contentment within Obito's black eyes. Some defiant fury in Rin's to get them all through. As if he'd known all along.

Knowing the Fourth, he probably had done.

On the last night, after Kakashi had fallen asleep in Yondaime's lap and Jiraiya had stepped gratefully out of the shadows with a whispered '_I thought he'd stay awake all night' _his student had told him where he'd hidden the album, '_Bottom left drawer in the desk, sensei, don't let the Professor forget!' _and made him promise that Kakashi would get it. He'd promised; because Yondaime trusted his sensei as much as Jiraiya trusted his; so when Sandaime had said '_Kakashi isn't ready yet.'_ Jiraiya had figured it was fine to just leave it in the old man's hands.

But what should have been a gentle reminder of the good times had simply turned into a slap in the face.

Jiraiya put the album on the windowsill, next to the two framed pictures that gave so much of the Copy Nin away, before gathering the sleeping shinobi in his arms and transporting them both to his apartment near the Hokage's tower.

* * *

Thursday rolled around far too quickly for Shikamaru, he met his sensei at their normal spot and they walked in a tense sort of silence to the ANBU headquarters. They passed Naruto, looking pale and strained despite the beautiful weather - clutching what appeared to be a white book. Asuma wondered aloud what the blonde was up to – why he wasn't training already – and Shikamaru explained away Hatake's chronic laziness.

To his shock, Asuma began to laugh. "He's _still_ late!" The man lit up a cigarette, the white stick bobbing up and down as he spoke. "Kakashi only does that to keep people on their guard – don't tell me he's made a _routine_ of it?"

Shikamaru – too tense about his own dramas to worry about anyone else's – merely nodded as Asuma carried on.

"Just wait till I tell Kurenai!" The low chuckle should have picked up Shikamaru's interest, and on any other day it would have, but they had reached the small but intimidating two level building (two levels above ground, but no-one knew how many more beneath it), and Shikamaru waited anxiously for his teacher to finish that endless nicotine fix.

Eventually, an ANBU in an owl mask poked his head out of an upstairs window of the compound, spotted them, and leapt to the ground with a deadly grace. Asuma stubbed out his cigarette and bowed respectfully.

"Nara-san. Thanks for coming today. Please follow me." The ANBU stepped into the building, and Shikamaru was relieved to feel Asuma's hand on his shoulder, steadying him. Logically, Shikamaru knew that he was in good hands – Konoha's own wouldn't hurt him in any way – but the thought didn't soothe his nerves as he'd hoped.

The ANBU led him to a small room, bare but for a single oak table and half a dozen comfortable chairs. Shikamaru appraised the room. Interviews and Interrogation room, probably. Put the victim at ease and then bring on the trauma.

Shikamaru sat nervously on a seat next to Asuma as five ANBU operatives marched silently through the door, three of them sitting opposite the two normal shinobi, the other two flanking the door.

"Nara-san, my apologies, the ANBU Locust cannot be with us to take this meeting today," A kunoichi with a Cat mask began. Why did he _always_ get the _women_? Nothing but trouble. "So I shall be performing the recruitment in his place."

Asuma's eyebrow raised, his tapped a cigarette dauntingly on the arm of his chair – Shikamaru recognised the nervous gesture.

"_Recruitment,_ ANBU-sama?" Shikamaru felt the scrutiny of the ANBU operatives.

"Please don't flatter us by playing dumb, Nara-san. We are aware of your perceptive abilities." The ANBU Cat tossed a file to the Chuunin. "In that file is a brief outline of the duties we wish for you to perform. We are not asking you to become a field active ANBU member - that is above your present capabilities. We need shinobi of your quick thinking and intelligence working in our favour, Nara-san."

Shikamaru flicked through the pages – his eyes caught the _extensive_ recommendations in his favour. Every one of Asuma's elite team had nominated him, - '_including Hatake-sama!'_ – as had his pre-Gennin teacher, Umino Iruka. He didn't miss the enormous back-handed compliment.

"We wish for you to act as a strategist, in the long run." The Cat continued. "For now we would like to take you through the advanced strategic training, military strategic training, and further your abilities in the Blind Ops department. You do not have to take a position with us at the end of this course, and at any time may quit the training; the ANBU is very flexible in that regard. However, we ask that you read that file through and decide if you'd like to give our training program a try. If nothing else, any new skill to a shinobi may be valuable. Any questions?"

Shikamaru, lost for words, shook his head.

"Cool. Take that away with you, then. When you've made up your mind let us know, and we'll discuss wages. Forgive the quick exit, but we have other things…" As one the ANBU rose abruptly to their feet, bowed, and disappeared.

Asuma smirked at a dumbstruck Shikamaru, who stood up shakily, clutching the file. "Well…" he breathed. "How troublesome."

The Jounin merely laughed at his student's slow, excited drawl._ Wait till I tell Kurenai!_

* * *

Kakashi finally woke to a light weight resting on his head and the scratching sound of a pen hitting paper. It took him a long while to orient himself, eventually looking up at Jiraiya's face in absolute confusion. He was lying on his side in a huge, soft bed; thick red covers tucked around his body. Jiraiya was sitting up, leaning against the broad headboard, his right hand scribbling in the notepad on his lap while his left lay gently, paternally, in the Jounin's grey hair. Kakashi was lying flush against the old man's leg, one hand clutching at the thick material of his trousers, his forehead securely against a strong hipbone.

To be in such a position with anyone else would have mortified Kakashi; as it was the Copy Nin was just far too comfortable to move. The heavy pressure in his chest was gone, he felt freer than he had in a long time, emotionally drained and dazed – something had come undone deep inside his gut, almost, and without the spur of restless tension Kakashi was loathe to do anything beyond wriggling back down to sleep.

Jiraiya glanced down quickly, raising a fond eyebrow at Kakashi's sleepy expression before chuckling and turning back to his writing. "Feeling better, brat?"

Kakashi just hummed in contented agreement, aware that he should probably give the older shinobi some polite space but unable to make himself pull away from the comforting heat radiating from the man.

"Good. You won't be put on field duty for a few weeks. From Wednesday morning, you're mine to train." Kakashi hummed again, the words not sinking in through his boneless state. Jiraiya leered at nothing, rustling the paper he'd been scribbling on. "Want a bed-time story?"

Kakashi's eyes lit up slightly, as he grinned sleepily. "S'kinky?" he asked hopefully.

"Totally. It's only a draft…" Jiraiya's rich, dirty laugh soothed whatever little of Kakashi's nerves still frayed, and he fell asleep to one of the dirtiest scenes he'd ever heard read aloud.

* * *

Saturday the 18th marked the third day of Kakashi's disappearance. Naruto was shaking with the force of the gossip he had spent three days loyally suppressing.

Strolling casually along Konoha's peaceful (pre-dawn) streets, Sasuke couldn't help but wonder why they hadn't taken the day as a chance to lay in. Was Team 7 really so dedicated to their duties as shinobi, that despite the lack of missions, the lack of sensei and the lack of training ideas, they would still meet up in the pre-dawn hours, just because they were so often told to?

Or did they just want the familiar company?

Sasuke couldn't stop thinking of Kakashi's words. Couldn't stop wondering if, since he had thrown it all away once before, he could really trust the friendship and loyalty offered to him. He wasn't sure if he deserved it.

_Alright._ Sasuke shook his head. _So I **know** I don't deserve it!_

But then there was Naruto; acting like a _complete_ idiot and making a show of _everything_ he did, dragging everyone he came in contact with through a huge pile of embarrassment, drama and general crap, and still _stupidly_ fucking powerful on top of that, and still _there._ Ready to stand up for Sasuke without a moment's hesitation; ready to defend the boy that had betrayed him, because in Naruto's world, that's just what you did.

Sasuke hadn't given up on his vengeance, he couldn't. He _needed_ it like he needed air to breathe. It was just that there were more important things, sometimes; like getting through the day. Or the adrenaline rush of flooring Kakashi when the Jounin wasn't expecting it. Or the necessary beating when they realised that he'd been expecting it the whole time but _let_ them make the contact anyway. Sakura - so much older now - often just looked on and laughed. Or gave as good as _either_ of the boys.

And Sakura was _theirs_, wasn't she? Sasuke would never want her the way she wanted him - or used to, he wasn't so sure about that anymore – and she'd never want Naruto the way the blonde idiot wanted her too – or did he? Sasuke wasn't sure of _that,_ either, anymore. But they _were_ a team.

Naruto had called them best friends, and with a terrific jolt, Sasuke realised that they were more like family.

"_I can't take it anymore!" _Naruto's wail sent the birds from the trees, and Sakura barely managed to dodge what _seemed_ to be a lamp, flung in their general direction by an irate villager.

Of course, not all families _had_ to get along – and as Naruto's jittering silence finally cracked, the thought was all that kept Sasuke from murdering the blonde.

"Something's wrong with Kakashi-sensei!" wailed Konoha's most surprising shinobi.

Sakura and Sasuke – not yet entirely awake– stared silently at a panting Naruto.

"Idiot." The Uchiha finally turned around; hands thrust deeply in his pockets – unconsciously emulating their sensei – and sauntered towards one of the inner-village training fields. "We should work on our taijutsu."

"_Listen to me you bastard!" _Sakura watched, amused, as her boys bickered pointlessly, Sasuke already brushing off whatever Naruto felt the need to say. He was blabbering something about an album and Konohamaru and Kakashi acting strangely, disappearing agitatedly and then _not showing up_ - and the blonde's team-mates continued their slow progression to the training fields.

They had already begun to warm up when Naruto, as a last resort, pulled a crumpled picture from a pocket on his shoulder. He thrust it into their faces. "Look familiar?"

The picture showed a young Yondaime, handsome and smiling widely from his reclining position on the branch of a tree. A pretty brunette, wearing one of the old medic aprons, sat cross legged next to her sensei, grinning cheerfully and flashing a victory sign. Between the two seated shinobi, hung the dark head of an Uchiha that Sasuke didn't recognise – standing upside down on the branch above, waving to the camera. His bright grin seemed competitive, and although his focus was on the camera, his goggled eyes seemed to peer towards the other boy in the photograph, a young Hatake Kakashi. He was crouched on the trunk of the tree, fingers of one hand lightly brushing the bark, his head dangling sideways next to Yondaime's. Mature, slate grey eyes peered intensely into the camera, while the unruly tufts of grey hair made him seem _incredibly_ young.

They stared at the photo for a long time. Naruto told his story again, less frustrated this time, now that his team-mates were paying attention. He finished his story uncertainly, concerned.

"Do you think Kakashi-sensei's alright?" Sasuke hadn't realised Naruto cared so much. About all of them. That small voice gave _everything_ away.

"He's strong." Sakura said, uncertainly. "He's not about to just…"

"Sasuke's strong." Naruto didn't bother mincing his growled words. "_He_ still managed to go psychotic on us!"

"_Naruto!" _Her hand came up to hit the blonde – more out of habit than any real malice – until Sasuke stopped her.

"No, he's right." Sasuke sighed deeply. "But Kakashi-sensei is… he wouldn't that to us. He wouldn't break on us, like I did."

Naruto flopped down moodily onto the grass of the training field, pulling great fistfuls of mud and weeds up his frustrated anxiety. "You didn't see his _face_."

Sasuke smirked, crouching down comfortably. "Idiot. We _never_ see his face."

A long silence followed, the familiar joke just not comforting them in this new contemplation. Finally, Sasuke spoke again. "He tried to stop me from leaving. That first time." Naruto and Sakura looked up in shock. "He - well. He said a lot, and I was just _so_ childish, and he… he told me that everyone he cared about was dead."

The three of them looked down at the picture again, a team just like their own, maybe. At least, they imagined it that way. "You don't think he still believes that, though?" Naruto's voice wasn't hollow, it was familiar.

"He wouldn't have told Sasuke-kun about that, he wouldn't let us _know_ about his past unless he cared about us. Remember the bell test? The first one? He would never tell us a _thing_!" Sakura's voice was soft before giving a helpless laugh.

"Ramen?" the pink haired kunoichi asked, changing the subject. "We could go gossip hunting, instead of sitting here doing nothing?"

"Ramen!" Naruto tore from the field, training forgotten at the prospect of his wonder food. Sasuke thoughtfully pocketed the photograph, before strolling after his team.

* * *

On Monday night - out of the blue - a light rapping at Namiashi Raidou's window brought two sleeping Jounin to immediate alertness. The ANBU crouching, spider-like on the window-pane, waved in greeting, before leaping to the ground below.

Shiranui Genma stuck his bed head out of the window to see a group of at least twenty ANBU operatives standing casually in the middle of the street, as if it were normal to see so many so exposed.

"Oh fuck." He sank back onto the bed, stunned for fearful second, before getting up to pull his crisp, fresh ANBU uniform onto his body.

"Is it bad? If they're so many?" Raidou tried to mask his worry, couldn't quite manage it, not after last Wednesday morning, when a distinctly ruffled looking Kakashi had wordlessly handed over a wad of scribbled notes from their deserted ANBU meeting. Genma had thanked Kakashi calmly, waiting until the younger Jounin left to do whatever it was he did before turning to Raidou and desperately explaining the previous day's horrid grief. _Poor Ibiki_.

"Nah." Genma voice was strong, though still failed to completely mask his concern. "The more of us there are to kill, the more chance I'll come home!" Genma grinned at Raidou's exasperated expression, quickly finishing securing his arm shield before dragging the older man into a deep kiss.

Another tap to their window, slightly more insistent, made them aware of their grasping embrace, broke them apart.

Genma leapt gracefully onto the street, Bear (though how it resembled a bear Genma would _never_ understand) Mask in place, nodding a greeting to his own ANBU graduate lot, bowing slightly to the older, more experienced ANBU – and fuck but there were a lot of them.

"So sorry to have interrupted, ANBU-san." The Hound's low voice sung through the porcelain, receiving an amused inclination of heads from several of the older ANBU.

"Y'know, I don't think I'm _ever_ going to get used to that!" Genma gestured to their tilted heads, receiving a genuine laugh from a few of them.

"Do you remember the guy that quit because of it?" A violet haired kunoichi spoke to the Hound. The chuckle ran through the team.

"Silence." The Locust's strong voice ran through the assembly. "We're running on a timeframe." Genma sighed slightly in relief at the familiar capability of Ibiki – he had worried that these supposed 'break patterns' an ANBU was supposed to cultivate would cause more harm than good, but here was the end result, and it was as intimidating as ever.

The experienced shinobi each grabbed a newbie by the arm, and all twenty ANBU members transported as one to a deserted field, packed with scarecrows. The four new recruits formed a line opposite the more experienced ANBU.

"Those of you that are new to our ranks, take note of the shinobi standing before you. These will be your team-mates until you are ready for solo missions." The foolish excitement of the recruit next to Genma gave away how young and inexperienced he probably was. The Locust continued. "You may be paired with any one of these ANBU operatives in the next few weeks, learn to adapt to the working styles of each. If you can not adapt, you will die."

Genma shuddered slightly. He was good at adapting, so in theory, he'd be fine. He'd worked with Kakashi and Ibiki, so if they adhered to their usual methods he'd even have a heads up on his fellow newbies; he didn't count on it though, knowing the awkward bastards like he did. Ibiki was already continuing his speech.

"As much as we hate to just jump right in, we have called you all here for an important mission. It will take all of our skill and experience -"

"Not so much _your_ experience." Genma wasn't sure which shinobi had said it, but he was shocked to see Ibiki let the comment slide.

"– in order to successfully accomplish our task." He paused for effect. The ANBU Hound crouched down beside him – a ferocious pet at heel – resting on a fist. "There are a series of objects in our own headquarters that should not be there. It is possible that the enemy is using our own security devises to monitor its own back, therefore we must avoid them.

"Our mission is to covertly infiltrate our base and flush out the issue as quickly as possible. This is a High Risk mission, meaning that, if we fail, we run serious risk to our organisation and our village. If we are caught we run the risk of public disgrace, and severe castigation."

Genma shuddered slightly, wondering how the ANBU headquarters could be so at threat. The security there was excellent, and they had to what? Avoid it?

"We will pair up. Owl, get the cameras – shut off Control Room Security completely – make it look like a technical glitch. Bear," - Genma started - "you're with him. Cat and Hound will guard your backs, monitor from above and below. The rest of you with me – we will infiltrate at the secure signal, and all of us will regroup inside the largest Control Room. Do not fail."

The ANBU squad sped to it.

* * *

Aoba rushed into the Godaime's office, startling Kotetsu and Izumo - on night shift, dozing on each other's shoulders while Tsunade, feet up on her desk, filed her nails as she read from a large text book.

"Hokage-sama! There's an emergency Hokage!" While Aoba wasn't an ANBU member himself, he often covered the mission desk – to save ANBU pranksters from having access to each other's confidential files; and their security systems – Aoba's substantial technical knowledge made him ideal for identifying threats to their electrical systems.

Tsunade looked up calmly, knowing Aoba's penchant for the dramatic. "Explain shinobi!"

"The ANBU security has just crashed – an entire floor – it appears to be some kind of technical glitch, but it's too central. The Control Rooms are completely unmonitored – the files! The equipment!"

"Aoba, calm down!" The Godaime stood, fists clenched on the table, head bent. Kotetsu couldn't help but sleepily admire her ample –

"_Stop staring at her tits, dude!" _Izumo hissed. "_You know what happened last time!" _Kotetsu stuck his tongue out.

"Have there been any new recruits in the last week?"

"I believe so, Hokage-sama…"

"It's probably just hazing. If the security doesn't come back online tomorrow, send in a team to flush the place out." Izumo's eyes lit up in interest at the Godaime's words.

"But, Hokage -"

"That will be all, Aoba. What did I tell you about staring at my breasts, Kotetsu?"

Kotetsu's eyes shot up to meet hers sheepishly as his team-mate smirked.

* * *

Genma was amazed at the ability of the ANBU operatives. The speed and efficiency of the break in was graceful, fluid, sure. It almost seemed rehearsed.

The Owl's quick tapping into the computer's mainframe was a comforting thrill – combined with the cat-and-mouse-like chase as the Hound and Cat circled each other in their guard – it was enough to give Genma butterflies. This was why he'd joined the squad. This level of skill was something he wanted to be a part of. He'd wanted to prove himself, had wanted that forever, for his parents, for Hayate.

"Yo, dude," Genma's eyes shot up at the Owl's low whisper, echoing in the dark, enclosed room. "That keypad beside you? When my screen flashes red you'll have 1.5 seconds to press ctrl-alt-delete before the whole fucking alarm system goes ballistic on our arses. You handle that?"

"Sure, gimme warning?" Genma positioned his hands, staring at his partner.

"Alright – any time now."

The screen flashed red and Genma tapped the keys – a brief, tense silence where even their guards held their breath – suddenly, every computer in the room went down. Letting out a relieved sigh, the Owl put a post-it on the monitor in front of him. Written on it were the words '_Don't Forget!' _

"What the fuck?" Genma was ignored as the ANBU quickly made their way down the dark hallway – the Cat stopping briefly to let a tiny flare out of the window. Downstairs Genma could barely make out the sound of locks being picked before a Dark Army made its way silently up the stairs.

The Hound broke silently into the main control room – a large, sound proof war cabinet with stereo monitoring – and the three ANBU began to push equipment into the walls as Genma watched, baffled. When all the ANBU had finally amassed in the room, the Locust stood before them again.

"Hijiri!" One of the ANBU stepped forward, "Get the door." He immediately ran to lock it.

Ibiki surveyed the room intently; the recruits felt a chill run up each of their spines and faced forwards nervously, until someone behind them snorted with laughter. A ninjutsu, Genma realised. _Goddamn ANBU pranksters_.

"ANBU, remove your masks." The new recruits stood in shock as each of the shinobi removed their porcelain masks, exposing themselves.

"But, ANBU-sama!" That excitable boy from earlier exclaimed. "That's against the rules!"

Genma suddenly understood, at least partially, removing his mask and glancing at a smirking Kakashi. "There are _rules,_" Genma began, smirking. "And then there are _house rules._"

Several of the ANBU grinned, the violet haired ANBU Cat – who Genma finally recognised as Uzuki Yuugao, Hayate's girl - rolled her eyes in Kakashi's general direction.

"The first one to pass out," Hijiri Shimon (another nin Genma recognised, one of Ibiki's subordinates) pulled a large case of alcohol out from somewhere, "Gets tied naked to the scarecrows in the training field!"

Grinning, Ibiki lifted a bottle in toast – the rest of the assembly did the same. "Welcome to the ANBU!"

"If there's one thing I missed from you bastard lot," Kakashi smirked, "It was the quality hazing."

* * *

**END OF CH. 8!**

**x**

**Thanks to:**

**Nezuko: **for all your kind comments!

**Winter of our Discontent:** thank you so much! (sorry if I repeat myself, I forget what I said before) but your support (and capitals, lol) really means a lot! Glad you're enjoying it!

**Meleth78 and Faith b**

**Frolicking Llama:** lmao – you know that first lesson with the bells? When Kakashi whips out icha icha and says something to Naruto like "I really wanna see what happens next!"? I just find infinitely more amusing to believe he's telling the truth.

**Cinnamaroll: **thank you soo much! I was worried that the inscription would end up really daft and cliché, I can't help but think letters rarely work on a realistic level so thank you for the comment!

**Sorviball:** XD wow, thank you, that's such a huge compliment! Especially about Gai, because I think I've said how difficult I find him to pin down! Thank you.

**Isolde1: **Thank you so much! Rin is really fun to write, there's so much you do with her! XD thanks for your comment on my one-shots as well (I can glomp you here for that, right?), and for the Gai comment! Meh, just thank you!

**Paper Fox: **(I love your user name! XD) thanks a lot! I'm glad that this is uplifting in a roundabout way, and I hope I can continue to keep it interesting! Cheers!

**JuliTina: **thank you! Kurenai rocks, I have plans for her, lol!

**Shake It Buddy: **Thank YOU, so much! They're cute when they're hurting, lol.

**Telosphilos: **Thanks again, for the comments as well as the ideas! you're thoughts are awesome!

**Sna: **XDDDDD I'm _so_ glad/relieved you liked! Lol! You're very welcome for the dedication! Thank you so much for well... all your comments, actually! I was thinking about Naruto and Sakura in the part you mentioned – I originally write a lot about what they were seeing, but then from Kakashi's voice I think it made more sense to _not_ have them acknowledged too much. Like you said, the poor brat's going through all of this the last thing he needs is to think 'Naruto and Sakura are soooo pitying me right about now!'  
And yeah, poor Kakashi. snickers

**DirtyChild**: When I started this off it was meant as a one shot, just to try and destroy my writer's block, so really chapter one is just…crap, lol. It doesn't fit with anything I've done since, it's total crack. If I wasn't so endlessly lazy it'd be re-written by now! Thank you very much for your comments! XD

Huge thanks to**: Bluelady198, Masked Shinobi**, **Lady Guena, Azamiko, Jemiul, Narika, Zenna (**don't die! Eek!)**, Rane Metal **(crazy pressure lady, lol!), **R A Duckro, **and **Fuhrer XD**


	9. 09

**Notes:**If anyone's interested, in about the fourth section, when Jiraiya mentions Sakumo – that's where the _Positive Tension _one-shot came in. See? Doesn't fit!

**Thank you to everyone who's read/reviewed. **Have played with PoV's again. I know I should stop, but one day I'll get it right!

**Further notes for chapter 8:  
**In respects to a timeline – when (when) this actually ends I'll post something with the last chapter, maybe? I've tried to shove a date reference in each section as clearly as possible; at some point I'll go back and make those clearer. As for the last chapter, Tuesday the 14th is the day of the Anbu meeting; Kakashi breaks on the Thursday – the day of Shikamaru's meeting; Jiraiya picks him up on the following Sunday; The hazing is the 20th/Monday night. That brings us to the start of this chapter.  
Hope that cleared it up slightly and my apologies for the confusion XD!

For Telosphilos, I think. She has WAY too many intriguing ideas!

* * *

The sun rose gently on the morning of the 21st May. Golden splashes of warmth fell across Konoha's training fields, highlighting the almost ethereal, yet wholly natural planes of stunning green. The peace of the village was undisturbed – unperturbed – complete – and though dozens of cheerful, silent battles raged in the Hidden Leaf's secret crooks and nooks and darkened corners – the fields themselves bathed in the fullness of spring.

But the sun was a funny thing; and while the earth itself may bask and bathe and bow to its healing rays, there were some creatures that did not.

Hijiri Shimon had not been the first ANBU operative to lose consciousness last night, but he _had_ been the one to suggest the forfeit. He had also been the one who spent the whole night flirting with Yuugao-chan – in front of Shiranui Genma as well – and if _that_ wasn't just begging for some well formulated repercussion, then Shimon didn't know what was.

The Chuunin groaned loudly as a bright ray of sunlight forced his eyes open and then shut. A strong wave of nausea hit him – but he could do nothing but lift his chin and swallow the feeling back, working on soothing his gag reflex. A gentle breeze stirred his lower body, and his eyes flew open as the fact hit home that yes, thanks, he really _was_ tied naked to a scarecrow in the ANBU training fields.

And some witty little smart-arse had written _"Whipped by Morino Ibiki" _across his bare abdomen. Not to mention the countless other drunken scribbles across his arms, legs and torso.

How about that?

A low groan attracted his attention, and Shimon squinted past the sun's arresting glare to see – _oh god_ – none other than Uzuki Yuugao - _oh fuck -_ tied to a scarecrow opposite – _oh no_!

Naked.

Any joy he might have felt about that evaporated as she moaned awake – apparently just as sorely hungover as he was – but, in his brain-dead state the combination of the cool breeze, her utter nakedness and the guttural groans she was making went _straight_ to his groin.

His very very naked groin.

_Ohnoohnoohnoohnoohnoohno,_ He thought. _I am never ever gonna live this one down!_

She seemed to go through the same initial motions as he had done – the bright strips of aluminium on the scarecrows worked its reflective magic on Yuugao as well as the birds, so her impression of his light-related nausea was spot on. It would only be a minute or so until she realised she wasn't alone – and the nervous anticipation certainly didn't – ah – _aid_ Shimon's situation.

Her normally sharp eyes focused blearily on Shimon, and she blushed a delicate pink, setting off the streaks of violet in her hair. _Well, _reflected Shimon, _if hangovers don't turn _me_ into a sentimental bastard!_

That embarrassed grin turned into a smirk as her eyes fell upon – ran up and down – gave him the once over, (He tried to find a phrase that didn't make his cock twitch.) and then widen in accompaniment to her shocked squawk as she realised that she, too, was entirely, magnificently _naked_. She tried to cross her legs without looking like she was trying to cross her legs.

In her momentary madness Yuugao failed to realise how her futile shifting against Anbu bonds affected her comrade, who forced himself to take deep, calming breaths.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Breath in, breath out. In, out. In. Out.  
Didn't help.

"So." Shimon would, at that moment, done _anything_ to break the awkward silence. "Have fun last night?"

Even with bloodshot eyes, her glare was impressive. He briefly wondered if all the kunoichi's were taught that in pre-Gennin training, because Anko and Kurenai had perfected that look too.  
"Apparently so." Yuugao paused, nervously. "I have a vague recollection of you stopping from falling out of the window last night… Thanks."

"Yeah. No problem." That tense silence again; punctuated only by the occasional huff of laughter as Yuugao tried to read the scrawled messages along her arms.

"I can't believe I passed out before the newbies did!" Yuugao's hoarse voice sounded mortified.

"If it makes you feel better, they're all in the next field." Shimon smirked, holding his dizzy head into the breeze. "Except for Genma-san. Kakashi said it was Shiranui's idea! He'll end up a prankster; you just know it!"

"Hell yeah. Genma's great, he looked after us a lot when Hayate got sick…and then… after…" She looked lost for a moment, and Shimon gave up his almost-love at the realisation that he could never compete with ghosts. "It'll be difficult acting as his superior, though. Genma's _Genma, _you know?"

Shimon bowed his head, shaking out dark bangs to hide his gaze, taking her in as he gave her up. Of course, that was when he saw the clear message on her inner thigh – in Genma's clear scrawl. _"Go for it!" _

"Yeah." Shimon snapped out of his daze, quickly ridding himself of the ropes that held him up, letting himself drop to the ground rather than risking his already distinctly flimsy balance. After a few minutes, as he helped her down, he caught her bleary eyes with his; decision made. "I know."

When Shimon lagged behind slightly to covertly check out Yuugao's rounded _assets_ more thoroughly, he wasn't quite sure how he could safely explain that some witty little smart-arse had drawn a smirking _heno-heno-moheji _figure.  
On her right buttock.

* * *

Wednesday morning came too quickly for Hatake Kakashi. The comforting freedom had worn off entirely now that he was back to his normal routine and the combination of his humiliating breakdown, the interruption of said breakdown, the stress of having to go from zero-to-normal and maintain the façade throughout Monday night (not to mention the slight _tenderness_ still persisting from Tuesday's hangover); had all left Kakashi feeling slightly ragged, bare. And faced with Jiraiya's dedicated scrutiny the Copy Nin felt horribly exposed.

The _training_ was obviously multi-purposed, that much was clear. Jiraiya's own worry would be eased at giving the seemingly broken shinobi extra focus and new skills; The added skills would be put to good use considering the extra missions the Jounin would inevitably have to take in order to ensure to safety of Konoha in this awkward political atmosphere; Kakashi thought that maybe Jiraiya's concern extended to their mutual student – perhaps he wondered over the intelligence of leaving an insane man in charge of a potential demon?

However, no matter how plausible each scenario seemed, Kakashi just… didn't buy it. Each plan seemed too obvious, too practical – _not_ at all Jiraiya's style.

The Jounin knew that Jiraiya considered himself a _Kakashi expert, _but he underestimated just how well Kakashi, in turn, knew the Sannin. In all his perverse wisdom, it had been Jiraiya himself that taught the young Hatake to look _beneath the underneath. _The half-arsed command – yelled across a river at the nine year boy sent to find the Toad Hermit – had been taken quickly to heart, especially when Kakashi had discovered the strange old man's identity.

Kakashi didn't _know_ though, and it bugged him. He didn't have a clue why Jiraiya was so insistent on training him – and as the infamously powerful ninja all but materialised before the Copy Nin – the lack of knowledge made him extremely nervous.

"Hatake Kakashi." Kakashi bowed instinctively at the formality of the Sannin's tone. He refused to look shocked, no matter how he felt – if this was to be a physical training session the Copy Nin was about to be crushed, he did _not_ want to lose face any other way.

"Jiraiya-sama." Kakashi's nose twitched as he caught a familiar scent. "Godaime Hokage-sama."

He didn't need to look behind him to see the impressed arch of a golden eyebrow. Jiraiya's usually expressive face didn't so much as twitch.

"You know our policy, no doubt, of allowing the shinobi of our village to progress, as they might, with no undue pressure due to lineage, gender or creed?" Jiraiya's business voice made Kakashi's back straighten, made him drop the impeccable slouch in favour of an actual stance. He gave an affirmative sharp nod –silver hair twitching before falling back into its erratic mess.

"Kakashi," Jiraiya took a step forward, the Jounin unconsciously took one back. "We can no longer sit back and do the same for you. You waste the skills you have inherited. You put to shame the reputation of the White Fang and the teachings of the Yellow Flash – the Yondaime Hokage."

The Copy Nin was staggered. Tensing his jaw to avoid voicing any protest, Kakashi began to dissemble the hurtful provocation. _Don't rise to the bait._

What was Jiraiya trying to say?

As if reading the Copy Nin's mind, Jiraiya pulled himself into an aggressive stance, finally allowing himself to grin.

"If you do not come at me with the intent to kill," Kakashi recognised the mockery for what it was. "You can never hope to defeat me."

After a long, reflective moment, Kakashi attacked.

* * *

Iruka heaved a sigh, leaning his chin in his hand, tapping frustratedly on his desk, glaring at some spot in front of him.

If there was one feeling, he thought, that should be made illegal – that should just not exist; it was the gut twisting, hung-over feel of absolute worry that came with _stupid _Jounin doing _stupid_ things. The rumours about the Copy Nin, which had reached Iruka's ears, were easy to dismiss – very easy. They would have been much easier if he hadn't seen those shaking hands for himself – the lost look in that expressionless eye – the horrifying need in Kakashi's voice that Iruka had thought of as _beautiful_! Fuck! What was _wrong_ with him?

Iruka hadn't seen Kakashi for seven days. He _knew_ the other man was alright because he'd seen Genma in the staff toilets this morning, puking his guts up – and knowing he was a regular drinking partner of the Copy Nin's, Iruka had asked. And Genma – through his good-humoured retching – had replied that yeah, Kakashi was just great, his limbo skills were _excellent_ - though Sushi was a menace.

Iruka hadn't bothered to try to understand the other man's gibberish, just handed him a glass of water, taken a piss, and left to teach his morning class. Within half an hour, Iruka thoughts were firmly centred on Hatake Kakashi.

His morning demonstrations for Weapons Practise had been harsher and more accurate than normal – each target, in Iruka's mind's eye, baring the same masked face. Kakashi _had_ just fucking gone and disappeared for seven days. Seven _entire _days, and it wasn't that Iruka was _concerned_ or any of that tripe – it wasn't that he was _jealous _- he was used to not knowing where he stood with the Jounin, it was comforting, almost. It was just… (and Iruka struggled to find a way to admit it, even to himself) …he _wanted_ the other man. Quite desperately, actually. He wanted Kakashi to want him. He wanted the Copy Nin to think about his hands and his mouth and his voice and _need _him, the way that he was started to crave Kakashi.

And he didn't think that was too big a deal, not really. Iruka had spent seven long days torturing himself with images of last Tuesday night – no, of Shourei's party the week before. How they'd spent the entire night practically in each other's pockets, teasing, testing. How they'd stumbled quickly to Iruka's apartment – more in their haste for privacy than any real level of inebriation – neither had drunk much at the party itself. How Iruka had poured cheap wine into cheap glasses - spilling down his shirt when Kakashi had leant in too quickly to lap the sweet red stain from the other man's mouth. How they'd found that a convenient excuse to remove Iruka's shirt, following with his insistence that it was only _fair_ that Kakashi take his off as well; then a hair-tie for a mask…

Iruka found himself fighting a blush at the recollection of their hot kisses; how alcohol warm, easy lust had left him thinking of the perfect way in which their bodies fit; how blind, languid luck – more so than any real amount of skill – had led them both to the perfect rhythm, the perfect patch of skin, the perfect angle.

Flushing deeply, Iruka pushed an annoyingly consistent bit of hair savagely back behind his ear, considering the kunai in his drawer and how simple it would be to just cut the offending locks off. But then, he reflected, it'd be too short to push behind his ears when it fell into his face and would only end up irritating him more. He started rapping his short nails menacingly upon the desk-top again as he remembered the way Kakashi's fingers had pulled at his loose hair…

Iruka wasn't some naïve schoolboy - he understood lust; he knew that sexual desire could be fulfilled without the lurid flourishes of romance or _forever _and still help form a strong bond between two people; create a healthy slant of a friendship, so long as both parties knew where they stood. But Iruka didn't _know_ where he stood. And he wasn't all that sure Kakashi was interested in moving their friendship along. Maybe, in Kakashi's illogical, mixed-up head, this was what you _did_ with friends.

If you thought about it, considered Iruka, that _would_ explain why the majority of Kakashi's were the Elite Jounin.

Iruka had measured the whole situation from every angle, but even when he worked the strange, upside down logic to its end – even then – there was nothing to explain the snuggling!

Iruka felt himself start to growl.

The silent rows of children stared fearfully at their teacher's strange glare, wondering exactly what they had done wrong. He hadn't looked this angry since they had filled the teacher's desk drawers with bees. How were they supposed to know that their substitute, Namiashi-san, had allergies? Really, the man hadn't _actually _been stung, _and, _if they sat and thought about it, it was _hardly _their fault.

Iruka's glare was loosely directed towards the biggest trouble-maker in their class, as if daring her to breathe too loudly. She gave a slight _meep,_ quietly, as if not wishing for her classmates to hear her. The students shifted, restlessly, nervously. The little alarm on their sensei's desk had rung over fifteen minutes ago, signalling the end of their test, and they had each placed their pens politely on the desk, waiting for their teacher to collect their papers. Nothing happened.

Gulping, one student rose silently – collected each paper – walked slowly down to the front of the class – left the papers on neat little pile on Iruka-sensei's desk.

As she slunk back to her seat, reeling from Iruka's absolute indifference, she found herself fighting tears. The end-of-school bell rang out harshly against the silent classroom, and Iruka's students could hear the thundering steps of the other lessons being let out, children running out to play in the beautiful Konoha spring weather. Iruka's brow creased in irritation, his jaw twitched slightly, and not a single student moved to leave.

For his part, Iruka hadn't even noticed the bell, the class' nervousness, the wild fear. He hadn't heard the familiar stampede, the screeching of his colleagues as they tried to keep order in the corridors, the suppressed sniffling of the children in the front row.

Hyuuga Hanabi gathered all her courage, and tugged on Iruka's arm. He snapped out of his thoughts at her miniscule weight, not even shocked at the fierce white eyes staring coldly up at him. "Can we leave, sensei?"

Iruka became immediately aware his surroundings, blushed bright red and waved his class out of the room.

It just _had_ to end.

* * *

Kakashi felt like he'd been fighting for hours. The sheer intensity of the Sannin was taxing to the Copy Nin's strength, and he didn't want to resort to using the Sharingan against a man who was _obviously_ testing him for something. They had started off circling each other, Kakashi hiding in the tiny shadows on the edges of the open field, unwilling to blindly fight a losing battle. One of Kakashi's greatest strengths as a ninja was knowing when not to fight, but Jiraiya _knew _Kakashi, and his history, and so had spent most of the day - after that first scathing lecture - insulting and teasing and prodding at half healed wounds.

And had quickly worn the younger nin down.

"This is disappointing, Kakashi. It is obvious now that you're in dire need of my training."

"I don't recall _asking_ you for training, Jiraiya." Kakashi's feathers were distinctly ruffled. His body was a blur as it launched attack after attack on the legendary Toad Hermit, not expecting to even touch the man, just wanting to fucking well hurt _something._

Kakashi was still raw from his grief, all of his pent up frustrations and worry and sheer insignificance finally finding an outlet in this shinobi before him - who had somehow felt the _right _to intrude upon Kakashi's seclusion.

"Your father was infinitely faster than this." Jiraiya drawled as he blocked Kakashi's attacks effortlessly. "He always knew how to make a fight _interesting_."

"I am _not_ my father." Kakashi didn't even bother to hide the frustration in his voice, his teeth tightly gritted as he threw a well executed – but strategically suicidal – punch towards Jiraiya's smirking face.

The Sannin easily caught the Copy Nin's fist in one of his own, tightening his fist to mash Kakashi's fist in old hands too strong and battle worn.

"It shows." Jiraiya pushed at Kakashi's crushed hand, a light shove accompanying his debilitating words.

Kakashi was shocked at the intensity of his own reaction – even when Jiraiya had left the field, the Jounin remained, wide eyed, clutching his fractured hand.

The idea hadn't been to _hit_ Jiraiya, but to prove a point. When fighting enemy shinobi, purely for dignity's sake, the usual courtesy was to avoid direct hits towards the groin or toes. Inter-village alliances generally extended that to toes, groin, and hair. Konoha's ninja, when fighting their own, had a definitive 'not the face' policy.

For Kakashi to aim at Jiraiya's face denied the tentative familial strength behind their every word. Now, in his absolute defeat, Kakashi realised he'd simply followed Jiraiya's lead the whole time.

* * *

"Gai-sensei?" Rock Lee is almost comically saddened by the tears falling gracefully down his teacher's face. Like everything he does, Gai's grief demands attention, reverence, and upon receiving no response from his instructor in all things, Lee simply joins the man in his vigil before the cenotaph.

"You don't normally come here, sensei." Lee keeps his voice soft, as respectful as he can, having learned from Neji that silence can be just as piercing as any battle cry. "Is it a painful day for you?"

"No! Lee!" Gai strikes a pose, hot tears streaking down his cheeks as a proud smile adorns his face. "Hatake Kakashi, my Eternal Rival since the days of our youth visits this monument every day!" He pauses, placing a large hand on Lee's shoulder, forcing him to stare at each carefully inscribed name. "He visits his beloved dead to pay his respects every day – while he is unable, I will do this for him." The affected tragedy of the man's expression wavers, turning into something more lustful, more devious; "Because I _will_ surpass him."

Lee's eyes fill with tears at the nobility of his teacher, the humanity of the gesture. There's more to the tale than Gai will tell; he knows this from the pleasant melodrama of their conversation. Kakashi-sensei must also be noble, for Gai-sensei to find him a worthy opponent; and Lee fills justified yet again in his choosing Uchiha Sasuke to be _his_ rival. Lee has inherited much from his gifted sensei, and knows that Sasuke has no doubt done the same.

He hopes that one day the brooding boy will see him as an equal, but he somehow dreads that same day – the day when he has nothing left to aspire to. Lee knows though, that Hard Work _will_ win over Genius.

His teacher tells him so.

* * *

When the Copy Nin knocked on the Harunos' door that evening, Sakura's mother finally got her second good long look at the man supposedly in charge of her daughter's last three and a half years of training. She was _not_ impressed.

Hatake Kakashi looked, well, rough. He was masked, so she couldn't read his face – the mark of a good man was in his smile, her mother had said – and his visible eye was lazy and disrespectful. _No wonder Sakura's become so outspoken!_ His gloved left hand had remained in the perfect position for his insistent knocking, and upon seeing the Haruno matriarch he waved a cheerful greeting – rather than a respectful '_good evening' _or a bow. He was apparently not quite so blind to her appraisal of him, and pulled that left hand to scratch the back of his – _tatty_ – head, asking to see Sakura.

"Is it so important that you need to see her this instant? She's finishing her dinner."

"Shaa…" The woman did _not_ approve of his nervous fill. "It's no problem. Could you tell her I need a favour? To come find me when she gets a chance?"

"Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura, having heard her mother's irritated tone, had decided to come and rescue whoever was attempting to sell something at her door.

"Yo, Sakura!" His eye curled up in a grin, and the older woman bristled at his familiar tone. Sakura tried to hide her worried expression, her relief at seeing her teacher well, already dreading the excuses he would pile upon them tomorrow.

"Your sensei needs a _favour_, Sakura." Her mother scoffed. "What exactly was it you wanted, Hatake-_san?_"

Kakashi grinned at the familiar scorn. He had that way with parents. "I had an accident with an iron grip." The Jounin gingerly lifted his crushed right hand, pulling it back from Sakura at her gasp, his voice swiftly turning to a more serious tone. "I can't form the hand seals to fix it; I needed a hand straightening it out."

"Why didn't you just go to the _hospital_ rather than interrupting _my daughter's_ downtime? If you been training her for the last week, rather than gallivanting around -" Sakura cringed at her mother's lecture, noticing how Kakashi's eyes did not waver from her own - a challenge, then.

"I'm sorry for my recent absence, Sakura – something came up that I couldn't avoid."

Sakura was momentarily stunned by Kakashi's straightforward explanation. She didn't really _want _to pry, aware of her team-mates' speculation and the rumours circling the town. "Please come in, Kakashi-sensei. I don't know how to fix the bones, but I can set the hand for you, if you want?"

"Hn." He followed her through to the house's main room, ignoring the spluttering older woman as he passed. He settled cross-legged on the floor and waited as Sakura fetched a towel, a med-kit and a flat board of wood. Kakashi winced at the thought of it, this was going to _suck._

"If I teach you the jutsu, will you heal it?" Sakura looked shocked again; it was a fun look for her. "I need to be able to train tomorrow."

"Ka- Kakashi-sensei. Even if you teach me the jutsu, I might not get it right first time. And with any jutsu – it can only speed up the healing process, not heal it completely!" Her voice was a panicked squeal, a comforting reminder that however much older they got, his students were still brats.

"Maa… It will heal the hand significantly if it's done right. If not…then we just re-break the hand and keep trying." He grinned at the sickened look on her face. "What? That's how I learnt it!"

"Why – Why don't you go to Tsunade-sama?"

"Use a question and I'll tell you – but it's waaay too embarrassing to admit." Kakashi's eye curled up into an exaggerated grin, and Sakura realised the trap.

He either wanted her to ask him so that she'd waste a question on something far less interesting than he made it seem – or, _underneath the underneath, Sakura –_ that was exactly what he _wanted _her to think,to save him from explaining something painful. Either way, it wasn't worth risking a precious question.

She muttered some curse under her breath, cutting away the glove on his hand. If she yanked a little bit too hard at the pieces, Kakashi didn't mention it. "Alright, what first?"

"You have to get the hand into as flat a position as possible for the jutsu to take full effect." Kakashi grinned ruefully under the mask. "So first, you set it."

He placed his hand on the board of wood, palm down, closing his eyes and bracing his teeth gently on his lower lip. He didn't see when Sakura straightened each finger, digging each bone in each curled digit back into its rightful place. He managed not to scream – but his pained grunts almost made Sakura pause. Thankfully for Kakashi, her medical training kicked in and she completed bracing his hand before he'd managed to bite clean through his lip.

Breathing heavily, Kakashi surveyed her careful work. She grinned a little at his breathy hiss of pain – '_ow, ow, fucking ow' –_ but was knocked back _again_ when he noticed a small flaw in the set – and moved his _own_ thumb into a better position for the jutsu.

"Very nice. Better if you were quicker though, that hurt like-" Sakura was certain it was only the looming presence of her mother keeping Kakashi from finishing that sentence. His voice was strained though, and in spite of his nonchalance she wondered how affected he really was. Did ninja just get _used_ to pain? "Alright. The jutsu."

Kakashi paused, regulating his breathing. Oxygen was a natural healer, and pain killer, and Sakura recognised the chakra flare in her sensei's right hand for what it was – a small medical technique to speed up the recuperation of blood vessels by forcing pure oxygen into the injury. Tsunade-sama had explained to Sakura the benefits of the technique – it required minimal waste of chakra, but it did need a quiet atmosphere, based as it was on meditation – This rendered the technique all but useless on the field. Kakashi must have really been dreading the healing ninjutsu, if he was prepared to muffle the pain of his hand in such a method.

"The hand seals are rat, ox, tiger." Kakashi watched carefully as Sakura formed the seals. "Gather chakra in the right hand – spinning it slightly so it heats - and use the left hand to push it through the bones, fusing each break. Start from as far into the body as possible, leading out to a point – meaning go from my wrist down each finger, for as long you can maintain the jutsu."

Kakashi closed his eyes as Sakura traced the crushed fingers with the jutsu. He didn't tell her to stop, and so, like a dutiful student, she ignored the obvious tension in her teacher's jaw. No matter how crazy Kakashi was, he wouldn't risk his hand for the sake of teaching Sakura a healing jutsu. He wouldn't.

"I – I think that's done, Kakashi-sensei." Her voice was weak and her smile slightly sickly until she saw his trademark grin – the half moon of his visible eye as comically distracting as ever.

"Well done, Sakura." Kakashi began to wrap the jutsu'd hand in bandages before his student slapped his hand away and began to fix the sloppy attempt. When she was done, the Copy Nin immediately rose to leave. "Thank you."

"Kakashi-sensei, before you go -" Sakura fiddled bashfully with a lock of hair, looking for all the world like an innocent child. Kakashi's inner assassin shivered in fear. "You're friends with Iruka-sensei, right?"

"Mmm." Kakashi nodded his assent.

"What are you getting him for his birthday next week?"

Kakashi's eye widened comically, and he distinctly heard a muttered _Men! _coming from the general direction of Sakura's mother.  
_Oooohhhhh fuckity,_ thought Kakashi, _I am sooo dead._

"Shaa..." Kakashi laughed slightly nervously as his brain raced for an idea, his hand rose to scratch at his scruffy head. "I wanted to talk to you about that actually…"

Sakura's eyes narrowed significantly.

"I'm putting together a… a thing." Kakashi grasped blindly.

"What _kind_ of thing?" Sakura's foot began a menacing tap.

"Let me get there first!" Kakashi's cheerful exclamation was met by the glare of a fuming kunoichi. "A collection, of sorts…"

"Of _what?" _Sakura yelled, earning a distant scold from her mother.

"Of – of -" Kakashi searched almost desperately for an idea. Any idea. It was too early in his post-angst mentality to be thinking about other people. The world should think about that before it started springing things like _birthdays_ on him!

'_What's the one thing Iruka likes most in the world?' _Kakashi was grasping at straws. '_Besides being groped in his sleep.'_

"Sakura, I'm going to need another favour…"

x

Ten minutes later, head spinning with half formed plots and plans, Kakashi made his way to a deserted rooftop – settling comfortably on the high building. A wave of melancholy made Kakashi pull his hitae-ate from his forehead, letting the Sharingan breathe a little, letting Obito see the stars.

He dangled his injured hand over the edge of his perch, letting the breeze soothe the aching limb. He waited.

* * *

It is on Wednesday night that Iruka finally finds Kakashi, lying face up on a roof-top far from either of their apartments. His legs are propped up and his right arm is swinging off the edge. After eight days apart – Iruka refuses to admit that he could easily count the hours – Kakashi doesn't seem to notice when the Chuunin settles at his side, cross-legged and comfortable, even while worrying.

"Hey." Iruka doesn't understand why he is whispering any more than he understands why he can't stop touching Kakashi's dry hair. Spreading his fingers through the short strands that moult and get _everywhere; _simply watching as Kakashi's lazy, mismatched eyes close even more as some unknown tension dissipates at the caress – like a puppy, maybe. "I feel like I'm always waiting for you; and here you are… just waiting."

"Asuma said that stars are like diamonds." Kakashi's voice is incredibly, achingly young, and Iruka realises why he worries. It is not, as he first thought, because of his own feelings, or the frustration of standing outside of the other man. Kakashi is like a broken vase, hurriedly glued back together, he thinks, and he's found his way close enough to the Copy Nin to notice the cracks. "Kurenai thinks they're like holes in a canopy, and Gai likes to see great fallen heroes looking down on us."

"What do you think?" Iruka is struck as much by the beautiful cadence of his friend's voice as he is by the words themselves, and he has to ask though he fears the answer.

"I think they're just stars." Iruka doesn't understand the rush of emotion at those words; Kakashi's deep rumble is empty and wistful, bittersweet, eyes closing as Iruka tugs down the soft mask, raising a brow as he sees the swollen redness of a recently bitten lip. The young Chuunin is _des_perate to see that thoughtful pout, as if seeing will make Iruka understand how the man could make the truth sound so _beautiful. _When Kakashi tells Iruka the truth, it's _enough. _He hopes they are strong enough for it to remain that way.

Iruka stops questioning it when the man lying beside him opens his mouth to carry on. Eyes closed, face bare, Kakashi is gorgeous bathed in starlight - _'just starlight' – _pale, and luminescent.

"I think that they aren't there to be critiqued or judged or analysed. That they're just _there_, and that people should just stop trying to _excuse them_ and just… just appreciate them, you know?"

Iruka can't help but grin at the petulant purse of Kakashi's lips. He sounds almost like Naruto, though much, much quieter. Iruka thinks that might have been the longest sentence Kakashi has said in his presence without making some dumb sound or break, or joke.

"Where do I start, Kakashi? How can you look at the stars and simply see them for what they are?" Iruka runs his fingers across Kakashi's brow, his cheeks, and smiles in amusement as Kakashi preens on instinct, leaning into Iruka's touch. As cliché and sentimental as it seems, he is fascinated by the look of them together, the way his hands seem so much stronger than Kakashi's pale, delicate skin. The way he knows they're not.

"You just have to stop _thinking _about kissing me." Kakashi's voice is husky, content. A warm purr, almost, as if anything more would take too much effort. Yet Iruka is shocked into stillness. His hands freeze and he feels caught until the other man continues. "And just kiss me."

The Sandaime Hokage once told Iruka that a good shinobi was open to the experience of the better ninja; and while he's almost certain Saratobi-sama wasn't likely to have meant _this_, Iruka takes his advice anyway.

The kiss is gentle, like the breeze; beautiful in the way that lips tease lips without needing, for the moment, anything more. For the first time in these strange, exciting, tense weeks, Kakashi lies back and just lets himself be kissed. Iruka is perhaps more grateful than he should be, but he's falling too fast now to keep up with himself.

Kakashi mumbles something against his mouth; some quote that seems off key, off centre, wrong words, forgotten lines but somehow, in this stupid, sentimental moment, Iruka thinks it perfect.

* * *

**END OF Ch. 9**

**x**

Thanks to:

**Telosphilos and Nezuko and sna: **who I really can't thank enough.

(Nezuko: I just wanted to thank you and mention from your comments on 'shell shock': even as I was writing it I was aware of how over the top it seemed, that's the main reason I decided to include the brief description of shell shock and PTSD in the notes. It wasn't till I'd posted it and a friend mentioned it to me, that I realised I'd written Kakashi with as bad a case of PTSD as Sakumo. Thanks again for your comments. xx)

**Hey-Diddle-Diddle: **XD Thank you! But, I mean… they're ninja. Angst is_ practically_ normal, lol.

**Alanaquinn: **thanks sooooooo much! For all your reviews, it was such a treat to get all three, lol XD (I know how you feel about losing track…I've done that so many times!)

**Chibi-libra18:** hehe, yeah, I am kind of gung-ho about criticism – but you don't ask you don't get, right? Thank you so much for your review! To be honest, I'm awful at putting names to faces, but I try a point out any oc's used, just in case! Thank you for such a detailed go-through, it's really such a great help! At some point I'll try and go back through and double check everything, but for now I remain lazy XD Again, thank you – and very nice squid imitation, by the way!

**JadeDragoness: **Thank you so much! XD - Though I feel like a right prat for the review I left over at _birthday present _- turns out it was one of the first long fics I'd started reading when getting /obsessed/ with Naruto – I just didn't recognise the name, lol! I wanted to jut say, it was the bookshop scene from your fic that inspired the stalking practise mission earlier on in this – If I'd have realise I would have credited! Sorry!

**Apprentice assassin: **Thank you very much! Though I've lost the plot again (literally) So who knows when/how it'll actually end… shrugs

**Esther: **thanks! To be honest I hadn't planned to pair up any of the kids, but if you're looking for Sasu/Saku or Sasu/Naru or anything else then feel free to read it that way – the lines between friendship and love are blurred anyway, just 'cause I'm writing doesn't mean I know what's going on :P – any suggestions are welcome ones, as long as it's not for porn. I fail at porn  : (

**Rane Metal: **lmao! Well, that's a relief :P. thanks so much for the support XD

**Firedraygon: **thank you! XD Hopefully, this will be the last time I let myself say it, because I sound waaaay obsessed… but I have such a _thing_ for Anbu. Pretty, pretty Anbu, with their angst and bad attitudes… /sighs/

**Sorviball: **thank you so much! The fic probably never _will_ end. I keep thinking that I've figured it out and then…boom. You know? As for Sasuke, I will eventually get round to explaining him properly, but he just…he _has_ to change! I'm pretty much basing him on the good moments, when he works well in a team, rather than when he's all Oro's bitch and obsessey.

**Doven, who, spectre, alicorna, starry09, Mako red eyes, May and Meleth78!**


	10. 10

**Notes: This would have been up Monday morning if ffnet hadn't gone all spivvy. Sorry for the wait XD  
**Well I missed Iruka's birthday completely, which is a shame, but couldn't be helped – as an apology, here's a happy chapter! (For the most part, if you read it with a squint!)  
Also, I don't speak Japanese, but you know how in some places you just can't use an English equivalent because it just makes NO sense? _Hantakaze, _roughly translates to _hunter wind_. Please forgive me if the word structuring/actual wording is incorrect.

Timeline jumps again. Chapter 09 covered Tuesday 21st – Wednesday 22nd May.  
This chapter covers Friday 24th – Sunday 26th (Iruka's birthday). Briefly sees the Monday 27th.

**Thanks to everyone who's been reading/reviewing!**

* * *

Jiraiya scowled as he waited for Tsunade to emerge from her rooms. He had been working Kakashi for three full days; wearing the boy down, making him bleed from every possible outlet. He'd studied the tension in the Copy Nin's masked jaw, worked out which wounds were rawest, which words would hurt him most.

Jiraiya had pulled at his own heart, insulting long dead friends and students and allies; insulting living ones. The way he used Sakumo – his once partner in crime – to test the White Fang's son had almost given him pause. But it was a shinobi's duty to do what was best for his village – and so he worked Kakashi down.

Kakashi _had_ been wilder, in these last few days. An encouraging freedom had infused their sparring as Kakashi began to analyse Jiraiya's movements, his habits, and drop his initially stiff, careful strategies. There was no real improvement, though, and that worried Jiraiya. There was _more_ to the Hatake brat – there had to be – but it just wasn't showing itself. And Jiraiya only had one idea left.

The Toad Hermit grunted stroppily; crossing his legs as Shizune bowed politely in greeting.

"What do _you_ want?" he asked petulantly, his scowl reminding the Godaime's apprentice of nothing so much as Uzumaki Naruto.

"Tsunade-sama might take a while – there was an ambush last night and three shinobi were badly injured." Jiraiya watched that sickening look of admiration cross the girl's features. You'd never see a student of _his_ so blind to his flaws. "She used a lot of chakra healing the men, and is still sleeping it off."

"…Are you trying to tell me…" The Sannin said the words slowly, carefully, the exasperated glare never leaving his expressive face. "…that she won't see _me_ because she's lacking the chakra to uphold her vanity?"

"Pretty much, Jiraiya-sama." Shizune smiled sweetly. And Tsunade had said it would be difficult to hold back the white haired old pervert!

"Right. If she won't drag her wrinkly arse out here, I'm taking mine in there!" Jiraiya marched his way from the Hokage's office to her personal chambers, ignoring Shizune's panicked pleading as he stormed into the room – locking and sealing it from the inside – preventing Shizune's loyal access.

"Tsunade, you old peacock!" Jiraiya couldn't quite manage a grin, even as he heard her dismayed squawk. "Let me see the damage!"

He walked further into the room, and upon seeing the lump beneath the covers of her bed, leapt up to sit at the end. Waiting for her to move.

"You agreed to meet me, old girl." The old pervert's voice was soft as he teased the covers from her form, simply raising an eyebrow when he saw her true face, bare of jutsu or glamour. "I wasn't lying when I said it was important."

She narrowed her eyes at him, tightening the robe around her well proportioned form. "You act like I need babying!"

"You act like a baby!" he countered sharply, quickly losing patience with her vanity – when there was so much more to panic about.

"How'd it go with Hatake?" Tsunade's voice calmed immediately. It was odd, Jiraiya thought, how she could see through his anxiety so very easily. She continued sternly; "You better not have broken him!"

"I can't break him. He's too fucked up to notice." The admittance was stark and tired. Age and wisdom duly gained – and all come back to slap you in the face. Tsunade could see the fatigue in her comrade's face, and could sympathise.

"He's learning quickly at least," The old shinobi continued, "what to dodge, what to look for."

"Can you get him ready in time?" Tsunade kept her voice stern, ignoring the softer part of her she had thought long dead. Ignoring the twinge in her gut at Jiraiya's put-upon sigh.

"I'll have to, won't I?" Jiraiya's brow creased in childish anger at their actions, what they were forced to do at some petty warlord's hands. "Is there really no-one else?"

"Like who? Uchiha Sasuke? Hyuuga Neji? Naruto? Asuma? Ebisu?" She reeled the names off, watching Jiraiya's angry creases deepen, "Do you think any one of those ninja would be capable? Would understand why?"

"I'll get him ready. He'll hate me, but he'll be ready." Jiraiya's voice was steel. She remembered the first time he'd used that voice on her – Tsunade had been so shocked she'd done exactly as he'd asked. It was the same now, except now she pretended the orders were her own.

They lapsed into a heavy silence, Tsunade sipping delicately at a cup of warm tea, looking for all the world like a _normal_ woman. Jiraiya ran his hand across her cheek, wanting to feel the looseness of the skin, the dignified wrinkles that showed her strength. Deep frown lines emphasised her serious features, but she looked young for her age, even like this.

"Why do you hide like this?" Jiraiya's old face was gentle; he smiled at her startled eyes.

"It's the way of the ninja, Jiji." She grinned at his own slow smirk. "Even _you_ should know _that_!"

* * *

Kakashi waited until he saw Jiraiya enter the Hokage's chambers before strolling nonchalantly towards the mission report desk. He relished the flush that quickly coloured Iruka's cheeks as he surreptitiously grabbed the younger man's fingers over the report file he handed over.

Almost immediately, Iruka found himself pressed against the wall of some deserted corridor a floor above the mission room, Kakashi's body pressing insistently into his own, mask already down as hot kisses trailed across his neck.

"What?" torn between astonished humiliation and the incredible heat of the situation, Iruka fought for rationality. "Kakashi – no, get _off –_ what are you _doing?_"

Kakashi looked up, his puzzled expression melting Iruka further. "Birthday kisses?"  
Iruka tried valiantly to resist Kakashi's child-like suggestion and the accompanying nip to his lower lip, but couldn't quite stop the breathless groan at the Jounin's actions.

"Kakashi, I'm meant to be _working!_ If my superiors find out I'm copping off in a public corridor -" Iruka winced at his lover's telling smirk. He continued in an angry hiss. "- why would you go to all the trouble to keep this quiet if you're just going to drag me off in public – in front of at _least_ ten Jounin – it's only ten minutes since the start of my _shift_!"

"Who works on a Sunday? And who said I'm keeping us quiet?" muttered the Jounin into Iruka's abdomen, delighting in the way the muscles there twitched angrily as he spoke. He took the moment of shocked silence to crawl back up Iruka's form, to drag their lips together, making the kiss as deep as he could while maintaining the precarious balance of his chakra – half focused on the room beneath them.

Iruka reluctantly pulled away from the kiss, breathlessly, leaning his head against the Copy Nin's while he tried to keep his hungry fingers still. "What -" The sound was weak, so Iruka coughed once and tried again. "What do you mean?"

"You think no-one noticed us at Shourei's dinner?" Kakashi's voice was soft against his cheek, "I'm not going to proclaim my business to the world, or change my life-view, or bring you _hand-picked flowers at lunch time_ like some useless schoolboy," Kakashi made a face, and Iruka wondered about the story there, "but that doesn't mean I'll go to lengths to _hide_ this." Another short kiss. "Unless you ask."

Iruka was speechless, delirious; his hands roaming as he gave up his internal battle for control - moving across the planes of Kakashi's back, his arms, his arse – finally digging up into Kakashi's hair as they leaned in for yet another kiss.

"Besides," whispered the Copy Nin, an incorrigible jester's grin marring those pretty features. "Nobody knows we've left."

Iruka yanked Kakashi's head back fiercely, tugging that silvery mop in warning before their lips could meet. "Explain." Iruka watched the way Kakashi folded at the demanding tone, loved the amount of control he already had over the other man.  
How had he not _noticed_?

"Genjutsu to hide the transportation jutsu that I pulled when I grabbed you. Two clones down there are chatting away quite happily – as far as anyone else in the world is concerned we're bickering about Naruto." Kakashi grinned again. "Jiraiya-sama _did _want me to work on stamina and maintenance. Can I wish you a happy birthday now?"

Iruka snorted, bemused as convincing lips littered kisses across his face. "Points for credibility, I suppose," he muttered before giving in, meeting Kakashi's wanton kiss, relishing the feel of the other man's hands and weight and moans and scent.

Like so many of their kisses, it was needy; almost sloppy. Lust and temporary insanity melting any romance or softness; Iruka felt dehydrated, over-heated.

Like so many of their kisses, Iruka found himself lost in the sensory overload - forgetting the feel of lips working against lips even as it was happening – thinking only of the strong hands at his hips and back and arse; the occasional bump of their noses; the even rarer gnashing of teeth as Iruka's hands fisted into Kakashi's flak jacket in an attempt to _weld_ their bodies together; he was distantly surprised to hear his own desperate mewls as Kakashi did _something_ with his tongue that made his heart stop.

Later, when Kakashi – late for whatever it was he needed to be doing – finally handed Iruka control of his own clone before leaving, the chuunin sat in the corridor, trying in vain to suppress the satisfied blush staining his cheeks.

_As far as birthdays go_, thought Iruka, as he mustered the courage to move, _this isn't shaping up to be a bad one_.

* * *

Akimichi Chouza lounged in the shade of a large tree on the borders of Konoha's west gate. _Officially,_ he really should have climbed the large tower to better watch his village's surroundings from the look-out post, but it was, in his own mild opinion, a far too beautiful day to worry about the world. If their enemies had any sense at all, they too would be talking advantage of the peaceful air.

"Yo, Chouza!" Nara Shikaku called from his boneless sprawl on a low branch of the tree. "You see that cloud up there?"

"The big one?" Chouza sang as he munched happily on a bag of crisps.

"Don't you think it resembles Inochi?" Chouza laughed as he heard his blonde comrade's offended screech from a much higher branch.

"You mean his head?" Chouza grinned as he imagined the scandalised look on Inochi's face – the look of childish rage that his daughter had inherited so well.

"More like his ego!" Shikaku leapt to the ground as he was pelted with stones and twigs – Inochi joined his laughing comrades; red-faced in apparent anger, although Chouza could see his lips twitching at the comfortable predictability of the exchange.

"Shaa… nice as it's been I should really get back…" Shikaku looked worried as he scratched his head. "You know what _she's_ like."

Inochi shook his head in dismay as Shikaku walked away, waving to them as he left. "He is _so_ whipped!"

Chouza shot his friend an incredulous glance – knowing full well that Inochi was just as bad when it came to _his _wife. Inochi, unbelievably, continued. "I mean, the shit she puts Shikaku through…" A rakish grin, "The sex must be incredible, you know?"

Chouza guffawed loudly, amazed at the simplicity of his friend's mind. There was no romance there, no gentility. Just vanity and pride. Their kids were the same, a perfect echo of the Ino-Shika-Cho patriarchs. They understood each other better though, Shikamaru had inherited his mother's stubborn leadership, whether he realised it or not, and could balance his team-mates out in a way Shikaku never had.

Chouza and his team gelled, yes, but that had been born of too many long battles in a war torn world – of seeing enough people die in front of you to know to cherish your comrades while you still could. His son's team worked almost effortlessly, each weakness becoming another child's strength.

When Sandaime had first suggested the Elite Jounin as senseis for his son's problematic graduate year, Chouza had been apprehensive. The brilliance of the Sandaime's point team – Saratobi Asuma, Hatake Kakashi, Yuuhi Kurenai and Maito Gai –was undeniable. Was legendary. But their strange emphasis on teamwork contrasted sharply to the obsession Kakashi and Asuma shared with the importance of The Mission, and Chouza had worried that the uneven split would warp his boy; confuse him as to what it _was_, to be a ninja.

Now though, The Akimichi patriarch would not hear a word said against the elite team. Chouza had _seen_ the strength of their children, had watched them together and apart. If he had ever seen such potential he could not remember it. Asuma had his absolute loyalty, should he ask for it. Yes, Sandaime and Iruka-sensei had made the perfect choice for his child. The confidence the teacher had brought out in his Chouji was everything to the boy's father – and Chouza knew his team-mates felt the same.

Family was the most important thing in this world, after all.

* * *

Naruto sat on the bridge, eyes drooping, tongue held between his teeth - idly picking at his feet with a half-blunt kunai. Sakura slumped against the railings, trying desperately to look like she _wasn't _slumping, while Sasuke slouched casually in the centre of the bridge, watching Naruto pick at his feet.

"That is _disgusting!"_ the pink-haired kunoichi finally squealed, preparing to hit the boy over the head. She was shocked when a steely grip caught her arm.

"No, don't." Sasuke's eyes were piercing, unreadable, though his mouth frowned thoughtfully. "It's fascinating."

Naruto let out an annoyed breath, scraping his kunai on a trouser leg before looking up at his appalled team-mates. "Don't look at me like that, alright? It's good for your feet!"

He was met with two very blank stares.

"_What idiot_ told you _that_, you _freak_?" Sakura prepared to launch herself at Naruto – drill the point home – but was stopped by Sasuke's casual side-step between his team-mates.

"Jiraiya-sensei said so!" Naruto childishly stuck his tongue out at the growling kunoichi as Sasuke sighed heavily, hiding his amusement. "He said that if you don't remove all of the dead cells and dirt from your feet – if you don't take care of your feet – then you'll lose speed and agility, from being bogged down, and then I'll _never_ make Hokage!"

To the inside observer, the way in which the angry lines of the Uchiha's face smoothened in slack surprise was telling of Team 7's new strength and spirit. To the outside observer it might merely have seemed a reflection of the torturously early hour of the morning. To anyone who _knew_ the team, it would seem a testament to the new level of stupidity Naruto had managed to reach.

"Did you ever once think," Drawled the raven haired boy, "that Jiraiya-sama was fucking with you?" The blonde boy's wide eyed astonishment gave Sasuke his answer. "Or that _washing_ them might be just as effective?"

A thoughtful look crossed Naruto's face, as Sakura – biting her lip to keep herself from shouting or laughing (she wasn't sure which) – went back to tiredly watching the river. Sasuke nodded, apparently satisfied, and returned to slouching disinterestedly as Naruto put the kunai away.

"I can't _believe_ he's making us _train_ on a Sunday." Naruto finally grumbled.

The three shinobi lounged around for a while in comfortable silence, the warm air humid and refreshing compared to the stifling heat wave a few weeks ago. They contemplated the absence of their teacher - it had been over a week since they'd recieved any actual training, but Kakashi's appearence at Sakura's ruled out the possibility of his being on a mission.

Eventually, Naruto began talking about Iruka-sensei's birthday, and the party his colleagues had arranged for him that night.

"It's gonna be _great!_" the blonde enthused, "Just you wait, there's even gonna be ramen – the old man at Ichiraku said he'd cook something special for Iruka-sensei!"

"Oh! I forgot to tell you about the letters!" Sakura shot round to face the boys, a strange, self-depreciative look on her face as she realised that she'd helped Kakashi-sensei rope in practically the _entire_ village, and managed to forget the only two idiots she saw _every single day!_

"Kakashi told us both," Sasuke allowed himself a slight wondering smirk at his teacher's plotting – how he'd managed to keep the younger kids quiet the Uchiha was sure he'd never know. "It's covered."

Sakura grinned in relief and turned back to sleepily watch the fish below them.

"I can't wait, I'm so excited!" Sasuke rolled his eyes at Naruto's exuberance, "I wonder if we'll manage to sneak some drink?"

"Idiot." Yawned Sakura. "We're underage. You think _Iruka-sensei _would let kids have alcohol?"

"If Tsunade-baachan can feed Heavy Eyebrows -"

"His name is_ Lee,_ Naruto!" Sakura yelled defensively. Naruto didn't even flinch at the wild tone – another development in his friends' relationship that Sasuke had missed.

"-sake, then _we_ can sneak drink from under Iruka-sensei's nose!"

"Hn." Sasuke tried to suppress his grin. "Betcha you can't."

"Argh" Sakura let her head drop down onto the wooden railing on the bridge as Naruto leapt up to loudly disagree - seeing clearly the loosing battle that _was_ her team.

x

Two hours late, their sensei finally appeared.

x

"Yo!" Kakashi waved cheerfully from his crouch upon the bridge railing – a gloved palm gently pushing Sakura's reddened forehead back to an upright position from where it had been thumping rhythmically into the wood.

"You're late!" Naruto and Sakura chorused, half-heartedly.

"Sorry I'm late," Kakashi's eye formed a cheerful crescent. "I was having a stimulating conversation about sea urchins."

"LIAR!" Naruto's habitual scream, trailed off into a yawn. The Jounin was earlier than usual, at least.

"We weren't expecting you to turn up so soon, Kakashi-sensei." Sasuke had that respectful tone again, a voice always accompanied by a concerned glower from the deep blue eyes of his team-mate. The worried glares of his students never failed to make Kakashi nervous.

"Hmm." The bored drone was the only answer the trio received before Kakashi wandered off towards the training grounds. Sharing a bemused glance with his team-mates, Naruto shrugged before stumbling sleepily after his teacher.

When they reached a deserted field near the edge of Konoha's boundaries, Kakashi turned to his three. "Today we're going to play a game." Kakashi's smile faded as Naruto's eyes narrowed at some point past his shoulder.

"ERO-SENNIIINN!" roared the blonde boy, pointing a finger towards a sudden suspicious blankness in Kakashi's perceptive field. "What are you doing perving on our training?"

"I didn't notice you there, Jiraiya-sama." Kakashi's voice was frigidly polite as he effortlessly cut off Naruto's rant. Sasuke recognised the tone as one of distant disapproval; he had been subject to it many times after his return to Konoha. At first, Sasuke had been rebellious, uncaring, so lost in his own destruction that the cold disappointment had not even registered. Now, that icy tone caused him to shiver, knowing how close he'd come to losing the tiny speck of respect that Kakashi had still held for him.

"You should be more attentive, Copy Ninja." The Toad Hermit sounded cruelly amused.

"Huh?" Naruto looked confusedly between his two instructors. He saw Sakura's eyes widen as Sasuke's narrowed – both of them noticing the agitated flex of Kakashi's fingers, the vicious smirk on Jiraiya's face.

"Is there something we can help you with, Jiraiya?" Kakashi's voice was perfectly respectful, though he still hadn't turned to look at the Sannin - and even Sakura could identify the dark expression in her teacher's single exposed eye.

"There is, actually." Jiraiya pulled something from his pocket, reflecting the sun's rays so brightly the three young shinobi had trouble making the small object out. "Today, Kakashi, we're going to play a game."

The Copy Nin turned his head, eye narrowing when he realised what the old man had in mind. He turned fully and squared up, expectant of Jiraiya's next words. The Sannin simply jingled the bell next to his ear, letting the sound of it ring out across the field. Kakashi's senses zoned in on it automatically as Jiraiya tied it to his belt.

"If you don't come at me with the intent to kill, you will never get this bell."

* * *

In a sweepingly general sense, each hidden village had its own speciality – not only to ensure the villages' strength and reputation, but also to bring in business.

Konoha's strengths, in their broadest terms, were reconnaissance and assassination. Tracking clans such as the Hatake and the Inuzuka – combined with the unique blood limits Konoha laid claim to, such as the technique copying Sharingan – made Konoha's ability to _find_ and _fetch_ as near to perfect as their reputation could account for. Similarly, the Hidden Mist was generally thought to be the superior ninja when it came to concealing and defending – the Seven Swords had been the centrefold, yes, but they weren't the only models in the magazine.

These innate abilities often helped to fester discord among the countries, or add to the foundations of an alliance, according to how a shinobi made use of a mission request. For instance – a Daimyo Lord from Wind country might come to Konoha, for help tracking down a stray criminal. If the Hokage was wise, a missive would be sent to the Kazekage, ensuring that the Sand nin were comfortable with the trespass into their home turf. It was a personal offence for a low rank mission to be carried out without at least _informing_ the village whose country you were passing through, and these small insults had pretty much been the cause of the Second Secret War, more than thirty years ago.

These innate abilities were often the basis of a shinobi's skills. The first ninjutsu a Konoha shinobi was expected to master was the _henge_ skill – the key to gathering information through infiltration. The shinobi of the Mist would learn far more quickly than a Konoha nin the importance of masking chakra, and escape techniques, such as Genjutsu and other illusionary skills.

So, considering that almost every shinobi in the Hidden Leaf - due to their training - had the natural reaction to gossip as much as _breathe_, it came as no great shock that Umino Iruka's surprise party wasn't really that much of a surprise.

After all, even if you had somehow, miraculously managed to _avoid _Konoha's rumour mill (not that Iruka had), there were other ways for a pre-gennin teacher to gain information about the intricate goings on in the lives of the parents in Konoha. An unfortunate side effect of the loose tongues of small children, however, were the tears that quickly followed.

So it was that, the Friday before his twenty fourth birthday, Iruka spent a long ten minutes after class trying to convince a sobbing Nayami-chan that she hadn't ruined his birthday, and he'd known about it all anyway, and that it would remain _their little secret_ that he knew.

"It's fate, Nayami." Hyuuga Hanabi's wispy voice called from the doorway, "No use fighting it, you would have ruined Iruka-sensei's life somehow."

As Nayami – usually a vibrant little prankster – sobbed loudly into Iruka's sleeve, he gave a silent groan of defeat. _Oh, not another Neji, - _he thought to himself as he patted absently at the wailing girl's mousey brown braids, making soothing sounds over the top of her loud bawling – _I can't take another Neji._

As Hanabi left the doorway, ever-so-mournful eyes drawn away by some freak accident or another, Iruka wondered exactly how he always managed to get the emotionally deficient ones. His sleeve was very wet. _Maybe I could convince Hanabi to fight with Naruto? It worked so well for Neji! I could give him ramen to kick the little star-gazer's arse…_

Iruka sighed as Nayami gave another loud wail, climbing up into Iruka's arms when he began to pat her back.

_I can't set graduated shinobi on my students, it's unprofessional - _Iruka mentally scolded himself before an idea began to form. _But nowhere does the rule-book say I can't set them on each other…_

After all, thought Iruka, desperate for the coming weekend, just because a village had a particular skill, didn't mean it should ignore all the other equally important skills. Like… hand to hand combat, for instance…

* * *

Naruto watched in shock as Kakashi and Jiraiya squared up, torn between anticipation and worry – and no small amount of jealousy. Naruto knew that Jiraiya was powerful – legendary – but he wasn't sure he wanted to know what his Jounin teacher was capable of. Kakashi's strength was inconsistent. There were times, even now, when Naruto looked on in awe at the mastery of Kakashi's skills and jutsus and ability – but there were as many times when he merely felt… protective - Disappointed, maybe – in the way Kakashi would just… lose. Or worse, were the time where Kakashi would avoid a fight before he'd taken a chance. Giving up, to Naruto, was far worse then merely losing.

The older Naruto got, the closer he got to besting his sensei – he knew that now they'd been trained by the Sannin, Kakashi would not forever be capable of teaching them. There'd be a point, Naruto figured, where the three of them would just… leave Kakashi behind. But then, Kakashi was a mystery to them, even after so many years under his tutelage. He had never hidden his flaws from them, and yet had always managed to come out on top. So, with Kakashi, there was always a _chance for_ him to make it through.

"Look up." Sasuke whispered, and Naruto glimpsed the ANBU operatives in the trees – who, noticing the preparing stances of his teachers, had paused to _watch!_

Jiraiya's attention was focused on the Copy Nin – Naruto recognised that look, one he rarely received form the Sannin, a look of anticipation, a guarded, expectant look. That hot jealousy returned. These were _Naruto's_ teachers. Surely they should be focused on training _him, _rather than each other! But then, Naruto could recall the petulant look on his team-mate's face after their stalking practise, when Sasuke had informed his comrades about Jiraiya's admission. He had helped Kakashi convince the Hokage – but if the Copy Nin was so respected (indulged?) by the Sannin – why was he being _trained?_

Naruto bit down on his tongue before he yelled the obnoxious words waiting for his senseis._ I'm not twelve anymore, _thought the blonde shinobi, _A Hokage can't be selfish._

"Watch carefully." Kakashi ordered, quietly. "But stay out of this."

Naruto's eyes narrowed slightly at the commanding tone; he saw Sasuke's feet slide automatically into a more aggressive stance even as Sakura immediately obeyed, dropping the kunai she had fished out in response to Jiraiya's attention.

All three gaped openly, however, when Kakashi disappeared from sight.

They heard a slight buzzing crescendo; a kind of hum, spiralling amongst the undergrowth, but the noise was too fast, too consistent to actually focus on. They looked on as Jiraiya crouched; bell tied now to his belt, one hand guarding it carefully as his eyes darted to and fro through the monotonous wall of sound Kakashi had created. Ninjutsu to mask his location? Must be.

Shuriken suddenly flew towards Jiraiya on all sides: he deflected them easily, creating a strange sort of barrier around his body as he launched towards one side of the field – placing himself off centre from the other shinobi's attack. Two – no, Naruto corrected himself – Three Kakashi's attacked Jiraiya simultaneously, their quick, fluid movements difficult to follow – he could see Sasuke's mouth part in concentration as red eyes struggled to dissect the movements of the intense combat.

Jiraiya made some quick gesture, flinging all three bodies – like rag-dolls – limply across the field. Each one evaporated on impact with the ground. _Clones?_ Naruto grinned triumphantly. _He'll never beat Jiraiya with _my_ technique!_

Suddenly, the ground came apart beneath Jiraiya's feet, folding in on itself violently, but a quick substitution jutsu had Jiraiya posing arrogantly behind Kakashi's students, one arm extended across his body, palm facing forwards.

After a long, tense still – silence but for the consistent drone of Kakashi's strange jutsu - the ground caved in again, faster and wider this time - and Naruto tore his eyes from the scene as the three young shinobi scrambled to get out of the destructive path of the Copy Nin's _Escape by Earth_ technique.

All eyes – including those of the astounded ANBU lining the battle ground – scoured the trees enclosing the training field for some glimpse of the Copy Nin.

"Escape by Air!" Jiraiya, having transported himself to safety again, sped through a series of hand seals as the wind picked up around his form. "_Hantakaze no Jutsu!" _

Naruto watched as visible, spear-like bursts of chakra powered wind flew from Jiraiya's body, circling it. They launched away from him, weaving a trail of devastation through the trees – presumably looking for Kakashi. The gusts joined together, the savage spinning growing with the force of what, in essence, was a side-on tornado. ANBU operatives actually leapt from their hiding spots to crouch behind Team 7 at the force of Jiraiya's jutsu, and Naruto couldn't help but grin at Sakura's panicked squeal.

The Sannin's technique crashed to a stop, and the field was silent. Kakashi's cloaking hum had ceased altogether, and Naruto was confused to see Jiraiya's brow pinch together concernedly. Sasuke grunted beside him – a pleased expression that translated to something like _it's over._ Sakura, noticing Sasuke's crimson focus and confident snort, stared intently at the scene before them – noticed what he had seen – and gasped.

It took a little longer for Naruto to understand their reactions – when _he_ looked to see Jiraiya, standing in the centre of the training field; all he saw was Jiraiya, standing in the centre of the training field. Until the Sannin shuffled back a few steps, let his guard down a little, turned his head to one side. Naruto finally saw it.

_Jiraiya was standing in the centre of the training field. _

Without warning, a fair dozen of Kakashi's replicas burst out at Jiraiya, each of them attacking a different part of the Sannin's body, trying for contact everywhere but the man's belt. Snarling clones clawed inexpertly at Jiraiya's back and face, reminding Naruto of nothing so much as Kiba and Akamaru's combination _henge. _Other clones fought gracefully, strictly, moving through dance-like steps to wear the Sannin down. Others just fought – seemingly wanting solely to make some form of contact.

Jiraiya effortlessly defeated everything Kakashi threw at him – clones making clones before they _bamphed_ into nothingness to keep the Copy Nin's tiny army fighting – but there was some realisation, some simple fearlessness in each Kakashi's eyes that made Naruto wonder if the Sannin really was winning after all.

His question was answered as a more solid seeming Kakashi appeared in one corner of the training field – holding up a small bell, the Sharingan eye clear and exposed. The high pitched jingle rang through the field, and Jiraiya's eyes widened as the many clones backed away slightly, crouching – still circling the man who had unexpectedly begun to resemble _prey_. He turned to face the Kakashi-with-the-bell, and the many identical figures circling Jiraiya disappeared with a small pop.

"Jiraiya-sama," Kakashi spoke slowly, ringing the bell again, grinning at the way Jiraiya's eyes narrowed in startled anger. "I win!"

Jiraiya started towards the Copy Nin - the bell on his belt jingling loudly with his movement as – no, wait.

Naruto backtracked quickly; the ANBU's amazed chuckling confirming his observation. The bell was _still attached_ to Jiraiya's belt!

"There's a lot of Genjutsu." Sasuke muttered to his team-mates, Sharingan swirling. "But I can't see where it's coming from."

"We didn't sense it go up – neither did Jiraiya." Sakura whispered back. "That buzzing…"

"It scattered our ability to locate Kakashi-sensei." The Uchiha smirked, "It's probably still going – he's probably using genjutsu to cover it, as well as to create the bell and hide the real one from Jiraiya's ears!"

"And it's easier to cloak an area with lots of illusions, than it is to focus one _strong_ illusion on _one person_, so _we_ must have gotten caught in it too!" Naruto grinned again, thoroughly impressed. "Dirty, cheating, bastard-sensei!"

"Isn't it great?" giggled one of the Anbu behind them. "But that level of Genjutsu, he has to be using the Sharingan."

Jiraiya launched himself at Kakashi – who didn't move except to narrow his exposed eyes.

Jiraiya was less than a foot away from his target when a dark shape flew from the trees behind the Copy Nin - streaking past the Sannin's form – pitching towards the small crowd of onlookers. Another Kakashi rolled to a crouched stop before his students, bell in hand. He was panting slightly, breath coming in short gasps as sweat beaded on his forehead – presumably from the sheer exertion of fighting while holding up so many carefully crafted illusions.

"_Kai!" _Kakashi's command dispelled the final clone – the figure in the far side of the pitch, still clasping the illusionary bell - and the buzzing sound returned for a quick second before that too was dispelled.

Jiraiya appeared before the crowd, grinning widely as Kakashi slowly got to his feet, re-covering the Sharingan.

The strategy seemed obvious, now, even to Naruto. The most startling truth being that Kakashi must have stayed in the same position throughout the exercise – using the sound barrier to hide himself, and to hide the techniques he had been using. The clones had been to trick Jiraiya into expecting a physical attack, and the escape by earth techniques were to position the Sannin and help hide the first of the genjutsu. The circle of clones had avoided Jiraiya's belt, distracting the Toad Hermit from the bell so that the final clone – with the illusionary bell – had seemed plausible. Kakashi had even used the Sharingan of the clone to focus the real Sharingan, like a periscope – so the high level illusion could shield Jiraiya's ears from his own bell without Kakashi's true form having to face the Sannin.

It was an adaption of a very simple strategy that Kakashi had taught them weeks before.

"Well?" Jiraiya's voice was still firm, mocking, but his eyes were fond. The last of Naruto's jealousy evaporated as the small crowd of ANBU behind him gushed in their appreciation of _his _teachers. It _was_ pretty awesome, how Kakashi had tricked Jiraiya – but then, if Naruto had learned anything from the Copy Nin, it was that a powerful shinobi on the defence _had to be tricked _if there was any chance to come out alive!

"You could've just _said,_ Old Man." Kakashi's eye formed a happy little curve at his cryptic reply, and a stern glance from the old man in question sent the ANBU transporting themselves off to wherever they should have been.

"Are you going to apologise for trying to hit me in the face?" Jiraiya's cheeky grin was met with a cold glare.

"You provoked me." Kakashi's tone was remarkably childish, and his shocked students could do nothing but try to piece the strange conversation together. "You _totally_ deserved it."

"Hmm. Your actual training begins tomorrow." Jiraiya ruffled Kakashi's hair – followed by Naruto's and Sasuke's when they dared to smirk at their teacher's mortified expression – before disappearing with a dramatic finger waggle, muttering something about withdrawal and bathhouses.

Sakura didn't miss the masterful way in which Kakashi avoided the inevitable, uncomfortable questions – immediately comparing Sasuke and Naruto's skills to a series of small animals – successfully starting a small argument between the two boys.

A small argument that lasted all afternoon; while Kakashi lounged resting in the sun, reading his smutty books.

* * *

"Do you think he'll show?" Raidou hissed to Asuma as they waited outside the largest room in the academy building – the assembly hall. They'd been put on '_guard duty' _by Kurenai and Suzume-sensei, and were thankful to be outside of the powerful women's glaring.

"I don't _know_, but you even _think_ of putting their shit into the Gossip Vine I will _make you hurt_, alright?" Asuma, apparently, was very protective of his friends. Raidou tried to look up menacingly at the other man. _Stupid physical elites and their stupid height and body mass._

"But if they're_…_" Raidou fiddled with a wad of paper napkins – he'd been placing them (messily) when the two nin had been ejected from the hall – as he struggled for the words. "…_you know!"_

"No." Asuma growled, lighting a cigarette. "I don't know."

"_He should be here!"_ Raidou hissed. "He went to Shourei's and how close is he to _her?"_

"Look." Asuma turned fully to look at Raidou, allowing a lungful of smoke to billow in the older Jounin's scarred face. "Firstly; Kakashi only went to Shourei's because Kurenai all but guaranteed disembowelment if he _didn't _go. Secondly; we know nothing about what he and Iruka have going, if anything at all." Here Asuma gave Raidou a significant look. "Finally; don't fuck with my people, Raidou-_san_, or I will fuck up yours. Don't get me wrong, man; you're a great friend – but you don't need me."

Asuma took a long drag on his cigarette, grinning at the stunned Jounin as he slouched comfortably in the empty corridors. Of course, as timing would have it, Genma chose that moment to come strolling round the corner, glaring at Asuma as he casually greeted his lover.

"How was the mission?" The senbon bobbed about more than usual as he spoke, a sure sign that he was agitated, and Raidou couldn't fully suppress a grin at Genma's concern. "Didn't think you'd come straight here."

"It's all _fine_ -" Raidou began. Genma seemed to pick up on the other man's hidden message. '_My fault, leave it!' _and Raidou carried on."- Suzume-sensei was with us, so she kind of dragged us all here straight away. Scary woman when she's got a purpose."

Almost apologetically, Genma finally greeted Asuma, the tense atmosphere breaking as the three elite shinobi – bored and chastised by frightening kunoichi – decided to play ninja. The _guard duty _began to better resemble an elaborate reconnaissance mission as the three crouched around the hallway, flicking small needles and bits of paper at each other as the game became more and more ridiculous.

Eventually, Iruka came around the corner, tone flat and ironic as he called out to the dark corridor; "Suzume-sensei? I'm here at the Assembly Hall on my _birthday_, to see you about some hastily assembled excuse to do with _paperwork _not even noticing the idiots climbing on the walls!" Iruka bemusedly dodged a chewed up wad of paper. "Suzume-sensei?"

The three _'guards' _stole back into the hall, signalling for quiet as Iruka made his way through the door. It was surprising, many of the villagers thought, the length of time it took for a shinobi village to hush and stop the convulsive giggling that ran through the room.

"_SURPRIIISSSEEE!" _Despite his forewarning, and the general obviousness of the whole poorly executed situation; the immense volume of the cheer still managed to startle Iruka. His grin set the upper ranks back off into helpless giggles – Iruka assumed that many of them had been celebrating his birthday for a while without him! Intent on catching up with his piss-head comrades, Iruka began to fight his way through the jungle of tiny arms and legs clinging to his knees. The tiny children and his existing students scurried about him, vying for his attention as they wished their sensei a happy birthday.

It took all of an hour for the birthday boy to finally pry himself away from the young crowd and their well-wishing parents – the polite conversation came very close to driving him mad. Presents were handed over – mostly consisting of books and stationary, which Iruka was predictably grateful for – and the teeming mass of tiny bodies all but dragged the poor teacher in a jumping, bobbing circle that his students called a _dance._

The next hurdle in Iruka's quest to celebrate was ramen. Or, more specifically, Naruto.

"IRUKA-SENSEEIII!" Naruto's bear-hug was welcome and expected - Iruka looked past the spiky blonde head to see the lines of his ex-students – his Rookie Nine and the previous year's graduates. He smiled warmly, loving the chatter of the – now grown – shinobi. And it had been more than gratifying to see, as Naruto's affectionate weight made him stumble back a few steps, the defensive glares shot by so many of the boy's team-mates at the still prejudiced parents. None glared quite so fiercely as Sasuke, having his _own_ hatred to now add to his hidden protectiveness.

Kakashi turned up at some point, late, as usual – not that Iruka had been scanning the crowds for anything resembling a small white hedge (although, after he'd gotten over the disappointment of it not being Kakashi, Iruka had been surprised and a little flattered to notice Jiraiya's white mop, standing with the Godaime Hokage herself!).

"Damn, and I was so hoping to miss all the little brats!" Kakashi whispered hotly into Iruka's ear as he waved cheerfully to his glaring students. Iruka fought the blush, this morning's birthday greeting still warm and curling in his stomach. The Copy Nin raised his voice slightly, scratching awkwardly at his head.

"Hehe… Sorry I'm late, Iruka-sensei!" Iruka coolly raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure you've got _some_ excuse lined up for me, Kakashi-san." Naruto laughed at Iruka's teasing.

"I'm afraid I couldn't bring your present along with me, Iruka-sensei." His voice dropped again, far out of the sonic range of his nosy students. "It's _far_ too indecent."

Kakashi made some excuse to leave and sauntered off to the Jounins' commandeered little corner near the bar, seemingly intent on teasing Gai for a few hours.

Kakashi came late and left early, Iruka noted. The fact said a lot about just how badly he wanted to avoid the crowd. But he _had_ shown up. The thought alone kept Iruka grinning for quite a while, nodding absently as Naruto raved about something or other – probably Sasuke, and what his raven-haired rival had done to piss him off _now._

Iruka was pleasantly surprised that Kakashi had shown – the Jounin was never fully comfortable in closed in halls or crowded rooms. He wasn't so much claustrophobic as people-phobic, and Iruka had noticed that with his closer comrades and friends, Kakashi always made a point of wishing them a happy birthday in the day – before skipping out of whatever celebration they would hold. It was just another mechanism, with Kakashi, and it usually took one of Kurenai's mood swings or a group threat to get Kakashi to go along anywhere that forced him to interact with _people _outside of his usual little clique.

After the cake, and the ramen, and the loud songs that made Iruka wince; the kids were sent home to bed – most of the more respectable villagers went with them.

Then the bar came out.

* * *

Iruka didn't remember getting home – didn't remember much of the party at all, if he was honest. After a certain point (Kotetsu, handing him a seemingly gentle drink with a wide cat-like grin on his face) Iruka's memory (like his balance) just… fizzed out.

He vaguely recalled vomiting outside of the restaurant – Followed by a blank spot that in Iruka's memory appeared as a long pause, a steady buzzing noise surrounded in a black haze – Then he was stumbling through his front door, laughing breathlessly at some noise he'd made while moving through –

There was quick shot of Jiraiya slapping Tsunade on the backside, and getting a blush and giggle for his troubles (that one shocked the whole room); but that was either a product of Iruka's diseased imagination, or his times were mixed up – Another blank spot in which he vaguely recalled having tears in his eyes - And then there was a brilliantly clear recollection of him greedily kissing someone, unsteady hands propelling his captive backwards as he all but crawled inside the other person's skin. -

When he awoke groggily on Monday morning - Kakashi's cold nose unconsciously nudging at the skin just beneath his shoulder blade - Iruka was blissfully grateful he wasn't expected into the academy that day. In the short, welcome moment between his brain waking up and his _stomach _waking up, he thought it must've been a pretty good birthday.

* * *

**Happy late Birthday, Iruka-Sensei! **

**End of Ch. 10! **

**x**

Thanks to:

**Hey Diddle Diddle: **thank you so much!

**Ika-chan: **Thanks! (and you think you're horrible, I _write_ them in this much pain, lol)

**Shake it Buddy: **lol, thank you! XD glad you liked the sap!

**Polka Dot: **cheers, I think XD lol. As long as I can manage to stay on the right side of crack, I'm happy XD

**ChibiRisu-chan: **XD thank you! And yeah, he needed the Iruka loving.

**Sorviball: **Thank you so much! Hehehe, end to his suffering? There's an end? As for frequency, I think life may be getting in the way pretty soon, but I'll do my best to get something each week – even it's just little things. XD

**Nezuko: **Thank you so very, very much! As for Genma, since Meleth (atm) refuses to elaborate, I figure until told otherwise there's nothing he _can't _DO! Including good-humoured retching. Lol!

**Fuhrer:** thank you, again! XD Glad you like Gai! XD

**WinterOfOurDiscontent: **heehee, hit your sap bone too? Thank you again! XD

**Firedraygon: **I do tend to update a lot lately – I'm really bad at dragging on suspense, lol! But yeah, at the moment I feel like a production line, I had a lot pre-written, snippets and that kind of thing, before I thought of jamming it together in this! Thanks a lot!

**Porticulis: **Thank you for the compliment! Please feel free to criticise/pick apart, whatever – (fellow English student? lol) – obviously, I'm hoping to improve my writing or I wouldn't keep harping on about it XD Can I ask where you feel I lapse into bad-mush?

**Alana Quinn: T**hank you so much! XD Especially about Jiraiya – it's comforting to know when plot-ish things are picked up on, lol!

**Sna: **Thank you again! I'm touched you commented on the Sakura's Mum scene – I really wanted some bit of _family_ for at least one member of team 7. Poor boys. : (

**Huge thanks to: Azamiko, who, Rane Metal, luvwiz, pandap, Twin Sun Leader, Telosphilos, Reius Devirix, Mariemaia1, and Faith b.  
And Sora-sama, **whose review was a lovely way of finding out that FFnet was working again! XD


	11. 11

**Notes: **The first bit of this would NOT write itself, so please excuse the past-past-tense. Criticism is very welcome, as I can't figure out what about this chapter is... off. :S  
You've all noticed how I've been calling the ANBU by the masks when they're on duty. Just in case it's unclear, the important ones are:

Kakashi -Hound  
Ibiki -Locust  
Genma - Bear  
Yuugao (purple hair girl) -Cat  
Hijiri Shimon (one of Ibiki's Chuunin subordinates) - Owl

Timeline: Jumps around a lot, but I think it's all marked, XD

**Thanks everyone for reading and/or reviewing! XD**

* * *

Kakashi woke to the sound of Iruka retching in the bathroom. He smiled and turned over, snuggling back into the cool sheets as a light breeze gave cool relief from the morning sun's warm rays on his pale skin. 

Laughing would be cruel, Kakashi decided, as his friend's miserable sounds travelled through to the Copy Nin's perception, but Kakashi was sporting a tender bruise on the back of his head, thanks to Iruka's obscene over enthusiasm, so he'd let him suffer – at least a little – before helping him out in any fully conscious or effort-expending way.

Eventually, realizing that he was already late meeting his team, and had to make it to the memorial before he could begin his training with Jiraiya, Kakashi pulled himself from his comfortable doze. Delivering water and pills to Iruka's wholly pitiful form, he gently manhandled the Chuunin into the shower with him, cleaning off the hung-over body as well as his own, though a little more gently perhaps.

"Never drinking again!" Iruka mumbled into Kakashi's shoulder. The Jounin couldn't quite prevent the bubble of laughter at Iruka's suffering groan, retrieving a solid punch in return.

"Do you remember anything at all?" Kakashi's only response was the feeble shaking of a brown head. Kakashi had to bite his lip to keep from laughing aloud.

After a little more fuss, Iruka curled up weakly on the bed, leaving Kakashi to hand his suffering patient a bowl before cheerily announcing his departure. Iruka threw a pillow at him for the volume.

_Stupid, overenthusiastic birthday have-ers, _Kakashi thought to himself fondly, recalling the impossibly loud, clumsy way Iruka had entered his own house, stumbling through the door, and laughing breathlessly as his shoulder met the frame with a _thunk._

The strange noises had pulled Kakashi from his confused sleep – a relief after spending so much of the night reflecting on his past and his present; on Iruka, mostly – and he'd padded blearily into the kitchen, where Iruka had somehow managed to stumble to the kitchen table, and began to rummage around in the pile of letters making up his birthday present. Stacks of them – for each student or past student that had wanted to please their Iruka-sensei, or flatter him, or clamour for his attention.

Dozens of letters, all beginning the same way. Kakashi had crept up on Iruka, imagining blurry eyes struggling for focus as they tried to read those flattering words.

He could remember touching his lips to the back of Iruka's bare neck, chuckling low in his ear. "Useless, you are." Kakashi's arms went round his waist to steady the swaying man as he teased him. "What was it you said? _My students will be there, I can't go overboard!' _and here you are, completely off your pretty face!"

"Saw m'present – was it yours? From you? All of that?" Iruka had turned unsteadily in Kakashi's arms, hands flying up to Kakashi's face, holding the Jounin still as the Chuunin tried to focus heavy eyes.

"Well, no, obviously the kids wrote the letters." Kakashi felt strangely nervous under the close scrutiny, terrified of the layers Iruka might read into all of this.

"But y'made 'em do it?" Kakashi could remember clearly the heavy scent of Iruka's breath, unpleasantly sweet.

"Hmm." Kakashi had scratched the back of his head in some nervous gesture. "Yeah, I know it's kind of lame, but I couldn't think of anything else you'd wan-" Kakashi had been thrown back a few steps by the force of the kiss. Iruka's mouth had tasted of wine and ramen and wine and Kakashi drank him in greedily until Iruka began to manoeuvre them both towards the bedroom. A bad idea, it would seem, as Iruka's unbalanced weight tripped, toppling them both onto the carpeted bedroom floor.

Kakashi had made some pathetic noise as his head hit the floor, had felt disgustingly sober as Iruka's giggling turned to badly aimed caresses and wicked coaxing. Kakashi stood quickly, hauling the Chuunin up and guiding him to the large bed.

"Go to sleep, idiot." Kakashi had grinned, kissing Iruka again. He'd climbed into the bed, pressing himself against Iruka's back, not fighting as the Chuunin tugged him closer, laughing lightly as the drunken shinobi tried to move himself to face the Jounin.

"No, no way. You are _not_ puking all over me in the morning. You want contact you point that way!" Kakashi nudged him in the back for emphasis.

"Wan' _see_ you." The needy whine had been superbly endearing, totally unlike Iruka's usual calm commands, and Kakashi grinned when a hand hit him clumsily in the face, some rough parody of a caress. All Kakashi could think about was the blackmail he would no doubt get out of this.

"I'll go to my place, leave you here?" Kakashi had chewed placatingly at the hand still awkwardly stroking his face, trying not to laugh at Iruka's miserable protests. "Go to sleep, then."

"Happy birthday?" Iruka sighed, dragging Kakashi's arm back around his torso.

Kakashi grinned into Iruka's shoulder. "Happy birthday."

* * *

Tsunade loved her people, and her job; she strove to help the defenceless and strengthen the weak and lead the blind and do all the rest of that supportive crap her guards were always spouting about. 

She'd loved her sensei like a father – a grotesquely perverted father who'd played favourites with the wrong kid in a horrendously dysfunctional family, perhaps – but a father nonetheless. So she tried to do his work justice in the decisions she made now. He'd made mistakes in times of war – he'd all but been forced into stepping down to avoid the monstrous mistakes he'd made during the early years of the Third Secret War – but he'd always made those decisions trusting it was the best thing to do for his people.

Yondaime had made mistakes too, but he'd given his life for his village to make up for those, and Tsunade'd prance naked - without an illusion in place - around the pyre of Jiraiya's funeral before she ever let the Fourth's beloved name be slandered within _her_ village.

Then again, Jiraiya would probably love that – and what a fitting end to the super-pervert's life.

It was in this nostalgic mindset that Tsunade found herself – instead of working on war strategy and enemy ambush patterns – watching her most precious shinobi as they celebrated the birthday of Umino Iruka – a young Chuunin school teacher; Sandaime-sensei had shown a particular interest in.

She watched as the children - her future warriors - left, clinging to their parents, crying that they couldn't spend 'more time at the grown-up party.'

She watched carefully as Kakashi whispered in the younger shinobi's ear before joining his peers as they respectfully teased Konoha's own Beautiful Green Beast – who, on seeing the Copy Nin had begun to rebuke his Eternal Rival for his Disrespectful Lateness!

She watched as the alcohol came out; as war hardened shinobi indulged in drinking games they'd coined as teenagers as they succeeded – for just a couple of hours – to forget the harsh reality of their often short lives.

Tsunade, who had spent the last three days badgering Jiraiya into training his student's _other_ legacy, to prepare him for a situation she prayed she could find a way out of, suddenly realised where she'd been going wrong.

She never imagined that her shinobi would still have hope – fractured and skewed and beaten, it was true, but it was there. They had _hope_, like they had balls – in _spades. _If Kakashi could break and rebuild himself, only to have Jiraiya immediately working at his flaws and hurts, if he could resist all that, and then tease his comrades like it was the most natural thing in the world – if he could be so _normal_, despite being always three words away from crazy – then why was she hesitating to send the Copy Nin on a mission he was made to do?

And he wasn't the only one. He was neither the best of them, nor the worst.

These shinobi were the tools of their village. It was her job to make that mean something.

* * *

After he'd left Iruka's party, Kakashi ambled slowly along the streets towards his tiny apartment, considering maybe training a while, before settling down with a _good_ book. His inner pervert rubbed metaphorical hands together gleefully as Kakashi contemplated his 'alone time.' Somehow or another, though, Kakashi had found himself outside of Iruka's ground level flat before he'd ever reached his own. Funny, really, considering they were in different directions. Kakashi sighed, recognising that he was getting distracted again. 

Iruka's cluttered space was comforting, Kakashi realised, especially after so long living in an efficient work space. _Still_ living in an efficient work space, Kakashi amended his thoughts. There was no point getting all attached, he reasoned. Infatuation wore off, and obsession wore out, and lust wore down, and love wore inside a person merely to break them in the end. No. Kakashi was far too realistic to go about getting _attached, _but this _thing_ between the Chuunin and himself was new, very new. There was no need to panic just yet

Though he really shouldn't have bothered going to that party at all.

Still though, Kakashi found himself carefully picking Iruka's lock, taking his sandals off before putting Iruka's present on Iruka's table – the many pages of scribbled letters looked huge and messy, shoved carelessly inside a book tied with a silly little green bow that had amused Kakashi more than was natural for a grown man. The present had been easy to organize and obtain. A quick word with Izumo and within an hour all the teachers knew of the idea, the students told their parents and their parents had spread the word. Sakura had got all the past students of Iruka's, and Kakashi had only needed to turn up and collect his winnings.

The sloppily presented result, of course, had been the enormous pile of birthday letters to Iruka-sensei, ranging from the heart-felt to the nonsensical. Had it been for anyone else, Kakashi would have cringed at the thought of arranging such a plot. As it was, he found himself hoping it would please the other man. It _was_ soppy, now he really thought about it, but had been the only thing he could really think of.

_Dear Iruka-sensei,  
__Thank you for teaching me about compassion. Because of you I know how precious the  
__balance between shinobi professionalism and human emotion can be. Happy birthday,  
__Love, Haruno Sakura_

The truth was – Kakashi was a little troubled to realize – that he really didn't know Iruka all that well. The three years of their friendship had been built around an accident, a fluke, just as this new depth to their connection had been built around a mistake that Kakashi probably should have tried a little harder to avoid.

He'd been tired the first time they'd really spoken, on the anniversary of some stupid memory, ratty and irritable after another day of being surrounded by three vibrant reminders of the great tragedies of his past – and he'd gone looking for Iruka, so certain of the other man's bland dislike of him, still fascinated by that fabulous outburst at the teachers' meeting several weeks before. He'd gone looking for a fight, and in his utter arrogance and distraction hadn't bothered to pay attention to half the little quirks and ploys he usually displayed, and Iruka – despite barely knowing him - had seen right through, as if he were one of the Chuunin's hopeless students.

_Dear Iruka-sensei,  
__Thank you for passing me, even without any genius ability. You weren't the first to give me  
__courage to go for my dream of being a shinobi, but you were the first who didn't laugh.  
__From, Rock Lee._

They had argued that night, quite cruelly, ended it all off with a trip to Ichiraku's to further _discuss _Team 7 – at least as far as anyone else was aware. But how easy it was to see Iruka in Naruto, Kakashi in Sasuke, and their argument had unleashed some dull hurt in the Copy Nin that had been wanting out since the whole fiasco with Zabuza, so many weeks before. Iruka hadn't minded; he'd had issues of his own to work through, some desperate struggle to work for his students in a way he'd never been worked for that had been trampled on again; and had no objection to using this barely known superior as a verbal punching bag.

Eventually though, the spat had become ridiculous, sake had loosened their tongues, and before Kakashi had realized enough of himself to excuse his babbling, Iruka had begun to giggle into his ramen.

"_We really are worse than our students'll ever be!"_

And there it was, you see, the reason Iruka was so acutely attractive. He was a little darker than most people realized, and perhaps more human than anyone Kakashi had ever met. But he was sly; he could see through you, down to the worst part of you, he could strip a person bare and go right into the bones. And while he wasn't anywhere near infallible, Iruka had faith in the raw potential of his students – he trained perfectly formed, tiny little ninja every day of his life. That was his job, his greatest skill. And if Iruka could see the darkness in a child like Naruto, and look deeper still to find something worth molding – what mysteries did he see beneath Kakashi's fractured skin?

_Dear Iruka-sensei,  
__You always stressed the importance of balance within your skills and a team unit; it has  
__always served my team well. Happy birthday.  
Hyuuga Neji._

Kakashi didn't dare to imagine what Iruka saw in him _now_, now that they'd been together, taken the time to experience each other, _see_ each other. Kakashi didn't _like_ relationships, he didn't really understand them, and it annoyed him a little that he was falling into all the traps of one. He didn't like the idea of risking what little of his identity he'd managed to re-forge after he'd finally lost Rin, when in the midst of his wild, silent grief he'd realized how intensely fucked up he really was.

Rin had never really understood him, his motives, despite her claims of love and emotion (how could she, when Kakashi had never understood himself) - not until she lost her parents and learnt what being alone really was. Isolated from her clan – Rin had been Inuzuka in name only; lacking even the ability to fight with the Nin-Dogs they were famous for – Rin had relied on Kakashi for strength, for _something; _but, falling faster then she was, he'd been able to offer nothing.

Her father had been the runt of the Inuzuka litter, and his wife had been the more influential parent, teaching Rin the herbal recipes that had inspired her prodigal interest in medicine. So surely, Rin should've known that Kakashi was pure poison.

_Dear Iruka-sensei,  
__We admire your persistence – despite what we all put you through you never gave up on us  
__- even Naruto. Shikamaru says your strategy is the best one. (Sorry about the hole in the wall.)  
__Nara Shikamaru and Akimichi Chouji._

Kakashi had lost himself, for a while, after his Sensei's death, and somehow managed to drag his last friend down with him. After that, after Rin, the closest thing to a _real_ relationship Kakashi had been able to deal with had been part of a mission – and after the most deviously devoted six months of Kakashi's young life he'd ended up dragging a knife through the other boy's expressive face when the double-ruse had been discovered.

But Iruka had somehow withstood Kakashi's tumultuous friendship, had watched his sanity slide between neurotic worry and spitting rages, between unshakeable calm and desperate shaking. Iruka had seen the worst of Kakashi – though he'd slit his own throat before he'd ever admit that – and was still there. Iruka had no reason to be.

Kakashi had no _claim _on the other man, and the sad truth was that Kakashi didn't really want to fuck that up.

The sad truth was that it was far too late to worry.

* * *

"This is incredibly boring, ANBU-Sama." 

Despite his throbbing head, Genma spent his Monday morning sifting through endless amounts of neglected paperwork, sorting entirely defunct mission briefings into chronological order – rewriting the title and date of each file onto a separate card so they could be cross-referenced by alphabetical order as well.

He hated this, oh how he hated it.

The worst part, by far (aside from the hangover), was the ANBU Locust's overwhelming presence, leaning over his shoulder, breathing down his neck. The few rare times he'd actually managed to find some interesting aspect of a file and begin to read through, he'd been stopped by that looming figure. The only thing the man had said in three hours was _You're here to sort, not to be entertained. _

"It's necessary, Newbie." The low command ran like electricity through Genma's tender head. _'ooh a new sentence!' _The jounin thought sarcastically, _'It can speak!'_

The Locust moved opposite Genma, carelessly moving the pile that had been placed on the chair to sit upon it, feet going atop the desk to shove at the sorted piles of paperwork – spilling them to the floor. Genma gaped, his mask hiding the furious, offended expression at his superior's actions. _Don't scream, don't kill, calm down. Everything's a test._

Genma silently knelt on the floor, pulling the now incomprehensible files back into a loose pile beside his foot to be dealt with later. He tugged at the tight-fitting uniform he'd been forced to wear – the rest of the office staff walked around in casual clothing and uniform mask, so long as their tattoo was on display - he wasn't used to the close fit and he felt stifled – more like sausage meat shoved into the tight uniform than as the _hot-shit _he knew he appeared.

The Locust watched carefully as Genma sped up his methodical categorising, finding a rhythm to his work. Ibiki nodded to himself, pleased. The other recruits had all acted irresponsibly, immaturely. Certainly not in a manner befitting to a shinobi of ANBU level. Of the three novices to graduate with Genma, one had screamed at him – threatening him when he couldn't get his way; one had given up, refusing to work any further under such ill-treatment. The last had simpered; asking Ibiki to leave and that if it was a question of trust than there was nothing to worry about – wrong, incredibly wrong, but at least she had _tried_ to read into the exercise.

Genma knew from the start that there had to be more to this than mere paperwork. What could an ANBU learn from doing paperwork that he couldn't learn in pre-Gennin training, or Jounin level training? The exercise was one of patience, or pressure, or something akin to both. The way Ibiki was commanding the room, silencing Genma; the way in which he loomed and insulted; the way in which, even now, he was childishly, senselessly messing up the dusty files from the careful order Genma had placed them – all of that screamed at Genma to just get on with it.

"Alright, Newbie, that's enough." The Locust's hand came down on Genma's own when the older shinobi hesitated.

"That's enough of this test, or that's enough of this _part _of the test?" Genma asked. "Am I supposed to carry on despite it all? Can we at least move to somewhere with real files?"

The Locust laughed as he helped Genma carry the stacks of paperwork back to the filing cabinets, cramming them in haphazardly. "No, no that's definitely enough for this test. Let's go grab some coffee."

When they were sitting in the Locust's office – blinds down, masks off, coffee in hand – Ibiki got to work.  
"You accurately deduced that whole little episode was a test. How and why, Newbie?"

"The files were neglected, dusty, and useless. The content wasn't consistent or relevant – it probably wasn't even real. That's why you wouldn't let me read through any of the files." Genma paused as Ibiki nodded thoughtfully, a smirk tugging at the scars on his strong face. "You were obnoxious, insolent, _totally_ unhelpful. Designed to either freak the fuck out of me and put pressure on the situation – how I handled that small amount of pressure might tell you how I would deal in a more important situation – or, through the messing up of my stacks, designed to simulate how'd I'd react when things don't go my way.

"Both of these things would be important in your choosing my responsibilities - if you finalise my recruitment at all." Genma grinned at Ibiki's raised eyebrow. "I know you _said _we all got in, but then you got us wasted. I don't trust you, Ibiki-san, sorry."

"You all got in, Genma. The ANBU choose from the potential they see and then build up their soldiers from that raw mould." Ibiki's voice was laced with humour. "However, of the new recruits who graduated with you, three of them will be shunted sideways – they'll be manning desks and filing paperwork and watching you rise up the ranks and wondering 'why?' for however long it takes them all to realise – you were the only one who didn't fuck around.

"The ANBU have wanted you for a very long time, Genma-san, we're honoured you finally opened yourself to our requests." Ibiki continued. Genma laughed, flattered in spite of himself as the other man carried on. "Now it's just a case of figuring out where you'd be most useful."

"What do you mean?" Genma had, like all shinobi unfamiliar with the intricacies of the ANBU, assumed the Dark Troops were one breed. Assumed that they all worked in the same fields.

"The ANBU are made up of four main departments," Ibiki sounded bored, like this was information he'd had to reel off countless times. "The Assassins – the solo operatives. The ANBU hound has specifically requested you do not join their ranks; I have to agree with him. You're too old for _that_ head-trip…  
"The Shadow Guards – named for their principle duty of guarding the Hokage."

"Clever." Genma smirked at the snide way Ibiki presented that fact.

"They're the ones most shinobi associate with the ANBU. The law enforcers, teamed operations and medical nin. You have a recommendation from the ANBU Cat to join these ranks, should you wish to apply." Ibiki let the fact sink in before he continued.

"I work for the Information and Strategic Analysis department. Anything to do with information is ours – translation, interrogation, strategy, development of weaponry, and often training and recruitment. They've started referring to us as the T&I squads, so if you hear that around just be aware that's us.

"Then there's the ANBU Pranksters. The go-betweens. These shinobi are the ones that go where they're needed; one day they might be hacking into some enemy surveillance equipment, the next day performing a detailed Field Op. You know enough about the paperwork and the action to make the links between the two, so, for now at least, I'm putting you with them. Any questions?"

Genma queried the other shinobi: "Why are they called _Pranksters? _What does T&I stand for?"

"T&I stands for _Torture and Interrogation_, it started off as a joke amongst the ANBU, but now it's semi-official. On all our letter heads and crap like that. That's probably how the Pranksters got their name – a joke that stuck – but I haven't a clue what it was before." Ibiki's grin did nothing to soothe Genma's nerves.  
"The ANBU Boar – I'm guessing that was your examiner, the greedy bastard – works in the opposing T&I unit. For some reason which we have never figured out, he despises Pranksters. They get to him, and it's always funny to see."

"You want me to join the pranksters?" Genma asked, still slightly shocked he'd got in so quickly.

"Starting tomorrow." Ibiki rose as he finished his coffee, ushering Genma out of the office. "They'll want to train you for a while, regularly, before you go back to your normal duty."

Genma repositioned his mask as he bowed to Ibiki, leaving the offices.

He was _in. _Now all he had to do was stay sane.

* * *

On Tuesday afternoon, Kakashi ambled along to the edge of the forest surrounding Konoha, waving blithely to one of the guards as he passed through the gates. If he knew Jiraiya at all, the man would want to meet near here – this place he frequented so often as a child, before he'd been introduced to his team-mates. These woods were where Sensei had first trained a five-year-old Kakashi, so long ago. These woods were where Sensei had first trained. 

A tiny hint on the breeze had Kakashi on alert, slouching his way downwind of the out of place scent. The lack of any visual - or even sensory reference – such as hearing or feeling the chakra of any other nin, was the only clue Kakashi needed to assume it was a threat.

Allies didn't mask their presence. That simple instinct had Kakashi pulling his book out, using the bright orange distraction to mask his roaming eyes and twitching nose as he worked to discern whether or not it was indeed a threat.

A sudden rush of air, scent and chakra as the enemy's illusion dissipated had him tucking the book away, tensing all over as he turned towards the new presence.

"So, I never pictured you trusting a school-teacher." Jiraiya grinned as Kakashi froze, dropping to a wary crouch. "Take off your hitae-ate."

"I don't know what you mean, Old Man." His voice was stiff and careful as he obeyed, throwing the scratched-up headband to the Sannin's feet, blinking owlishly as sunlight flooded the Sharingan eye.

_Gotcha_, the Sannin thought, smugly. "Don't flatter yourself, Brat. A Chuunin as a touchstone? What _could_ have possessed you?"

"Those records are classified." Kakashi's voice was little more than a drawl, an odd remnant from his childhood rigidity, a flat tone that spoke nothing but boredom, had driven Obito to distraction, yet failed so utterly to mask Kakashi's emotive responses.

"Nothing's classified if you're curious enough…" Jiraiya's almost lascivious grin comforted the Copy Nin, who let out a short sniff of disdain.

"Curiosity killed the cat, you know?"

"Luckily, I'm a dog person." Jiraiya grinned wistfully as he spoke, remembering so clearly the arguments he'd had with Sakumo that had ended up with the familiar line. He wondered if Kakashi had ever known about the joke, wondered if Kakashi had ever heard a joke in his whole pathetic childhood.

"Isn't that my line?" The smirk was clear beneath the dark mask, but Jiraiya could see the wiry tension controlled in Kakashi's form. The reference was lost on him after all.

"Oh you think you're doing well, pup," Jiraiya sent a thread of chakra to Kakashi's back, appearing behind him instantaneously; Yondaime's Body Flicker. "But you've got nothing on me."

Kakashi raised an eyebrow, attacking where he knew Jiraiya to be. How wrong the Sannin was, he couldn't help but think. He might not have the stamina, the experience, the powerful enormity of the other man, but Hatake Kakashi was no slouch, either. Unbeknownst to Jiraiya, Kakashi was well aware of his sensei's signature jutsu - though before the wonderfully clear demonstration Jiraiya had just provided the implanted Sharingan, using the technique had wasted enormous amounts of Kakashi's limited chakra.

Looks like he'd learnt something from the Old Man after all.

Kakashi reined in the impulse to mimic the older shinobi, instead using only moves that Jiraiya would expect. He knew the reason for this training – at least a little of it. The whole fiasco, every little attempt to break Kakashi open – were simply to see _how much he could take_. There could be no greater meaning to it than that. The snide comments, the hurtful insults – Kakashi didn't understand _why_, he didn't know what Jiraiya was trying to prepare him for, but he trusted the old hermit as much as he trusted anyone – the Sannin had taught his teacher, after all. You didn't really get closer family than that.

He could've just _said_ though, rather than forcing him through that bell test. A simple hint wouldn't have gone amiss, rather then letting Kakashi go in blind. A simple _this test was to make sure you weren't a nut-job. _The bell test, so similar to the one Kakashi had first taken with his team-mates – so arrogantly self-assured that he'd win, simply through how well he knew his teacher compared to these imbecilic Gennin he was suddenly expected to trust. Of course, what he hadn't expected was the genjutsu, the one showing him the possibility of his new team-mates' deaths, his teacher's death, his father's death. His sensei's caring voice through it all – _how much do you think you can take, alone?_

So if mental stamina was the test that he'd passed, physical endurance was the one he now faced. Whatever it was, it had to do with the Sharingan – they had sparred and trained a couple of times before, but until yesterday's training session Jiraiya had always insisted they leave Obito out of their exchanges. Kakashi had always thought that was just an attempt to hear him say the dead boy's name, but it had been a consistent effort, until now.

Question was, how long could Kakashi hold up against the Sannin?

Jiraiya drilled him methodically, the basic stuff – genjutsu, taijutsu – seeing just how much Kakashi could stand, how easily he could shift to normal vision with the Sharingan so headily exposed – how easily he could deny himself that power for a greater chance of survival.

When Kakashi was finally close to collapse; his gasping breaths quiet enough to allow him seclusion amongst the trees but his body's reflexes severely reduced by stress; Jiraiya gave the hitae-ate back.

"Better. Much better than yesterday," Jiraiya chuckled. "Although it's possible you just weren't trying to kill me this time."

Kakashi sat heavily, leaning his sweaty forehead against Jiraiya's leg. "…the point?"

Jiraiya sat down beside the Copy Nin, watching with slight concern as the brat grunted at the movement – almost letting himself fall forward. He was still favouring his right hand, Jiraiya had noticed, but he'd been able to use it, at least.

"Alright, brat." Jiraiya allowed Kakashi to rest against him, worry colouring his old eyes. "We've run out of time. How soon can you be mobile, and in control of the Sharingan?"

Kakashi looked up, noting the gravity, the sheer weight of that expectant look. "Let me rest for twenty-four hours, give me three hours after that to sort a few things out."

"Good. Now the crux of it." Jiraiya shifted, taking more of Kakashi's weight. "We have received intelligence outlining the involvement of Hidden Stone with the renegade and rebel shinobi threatening our village. Konoha is not prepared for war – particularly against such a specialised village. Fire can only toughen rock; we need a better battle plan than that."

"And Stone are _leading_ them? Fuck." Kakashi finally understood why Jiraiya had been so cruel. It had been a ninja from Hidden Stone that had caused him to – that had _killed _Rin. It had been a ninja from Hidden Stone whose face he had slashed when the boy got too attached to his target. Kakashi's pain was wrapped in Stone, and so soon after his break, Kakashi could just see what was coming…

"We need you to infiltrate the Hidden Village of Stone. Copy what moves you can, gather any information that presents itself. We want techniques, battle strategies, allies, politics; we need you to find everything you can." Jiraiya tried to read the boy's impassive face. "We cannot risk the lives of our villagers without good cause, Kakashi. That's something you can appreciate. Nobody wants a repeat of the Third War."

Kakashi's face remained blank, his voice was strong, but he couldn't stop the deep shudder that ran through his body. "I'll leave tomorrow night, Jiraiya-sama. How long will I be gone? How will I remain in contact with Konoha?"

"An ANBU member will go with you to a certain point. That is where you'll meet every third night until your return here." Kakashi didn't miss how Jiraiya dodged the question, but decided he'd rather not know. It would be tough enough even without a time frame.

"What are my orders, Jiraiya?" Kakashi tried to form some rough plan in his mind, but there was nothing, no clue as to how this one could be approached. Ah, well. He'd just have to wing it.

"Don't get caught." Jiraiya moved to rise, ruffling Kakashi's hair apologetically. "Good luck, brat."

* * *

The shinobi of Konoha had been very busy of late, and Team Elite – as they were often dubbed by the Jounin teams – seemed to be feeling the strain. 

Gai and his students had not yet returned from a mission to help the ANBU members ready the bunkers – apparently even the abilities of the Dark Troops were lately being stretched to breaking point; Asuma was recovering in hospital from some insane virus he'd caught protecting Chouji from what he'd thought was just a simple jutsu; Kakashi was readying himself for yet another _beyond_ classified mission (after besting _Jiraiya_ in a _fight_, according to the latest rumours) – and judging by the sheer speed and intent of his normally ambling slouch, it was going to be a big one; and Kurenai was, while worrying herself to an early death over her team-mates, trapped in what was little more than a Kunoichi Boot camp.

"THRUST!" bellowed the ANBU Cat – today's _mild mannered_ sensei. "STEP! TWIST AND JAB!"

Kurenai followed the Cat's dance-like steps, fighting down the perpetual nausea that had shaken her last couple of weeks.

It was apparently necessary – although the Hokage would not yet publicly tell them why – for all Jounin level ninja to be at ANBU level ability. _Specialities were all well and good,_ the Gossip Vine seemed to be singing, _but exactly how far will that get us when armies are pissing at our gate?_

"Matarashi! Stop sticking that arse out or I will kick it to the ground!" Anko bristled in rage at the teacher's roar. "I'm serious Matarashi, your weight is off centre."

"_**My** weight's off centre, you chunky slag?" _Anko screeched inanely as the lean figure of the ANBU Cat appeared in front of the violet haired kunoichi.

"Say that again." The surrounding kunoichi rolled their eyes, exasperated at Anko's unsurprising outburst. The ANBU kunoichi tittered at the exchange; though Kurenai barely noticed for all her mind was racing. The ANBU clapped and they resumed the practise.

The problem _was_, Kurenai figured, as she struck her palm forward in perfect tandem with the other twenty-odd Jounin level kunoichi, (knees bent, head bowed, step through the punch to add maximum strength to the blow), that no-one knew what was coming, and so everyone was expecting the worst.

And a ninja's _worst_ was pretty fucking traumatic.

The only difference between _this_ sort of training, Kurenai knew, and the type she took her students through, was that _this_ was specific, designed to build an army of shinobi, as opposed to a teeming mass of independent fighters. This was for ranks, and flanks, and lines of defence and attack, and trench formations.

This was for war.

This meant war was coming.

As a child, Kurenai could remember watching the older shinobi go through this sort of training, the almost useless attempts to improve Konoha's shinobi beyond their natural capabilities. Back then, though, the adult ninja had been too set in their ways. The ones that had thought they were invincible were trusted by mere mortals to prove themselves so. So called _'heroes'_ like the White Fang and the Sannin and the Yellow Flash had all, eventually, fallen to nothing; or fallen apart.

One by one, death by death, Konoha had proved itself a village of mortal men.

That couldn't happen again.

x

"You look green." Anko said, abnormally subdued as they reached for their water bottles.

"Heh." Kurenai took a long swig of water, holding the bottle against her forehead as she suppressed another queasy jolt in her gut. "I've been sick lately. It's ridiculous, every day at around lunch time. Can you believe it?"

Anko was silent for a long moment, too long, and Kurenai hoped the cool water was keeping down her flush.

"You're not…" The hyperactive, walking calamity started. "…you know… pregnant? Are you?"

Kurenai laughed loudly, brightly, and Anko's relieved grin said it all. "Don't be ridiculous – can I tell you a secret?"

"You know they're the magic words!" Anko smirked.

"I'm working on a new type of genjutsu. It'll be so great if I can just get it right!" A dreamy glaze clouded the kunoichi's red eyes. "It's just really draining. There aren't any guidelines for creating new illusion types – not like with ninjutsu – it's exhausting. It must be that, I think. Either that or I really _am_ sick!"

Anko shot her friend a concerned look, didn't join in with that bubbling laughter.

"If it keeps on…" Anko's voice was stern, caring. Kurenai listened intently, so shocked at the woman's abrupt response. "I want you to see Tsunade-sama, or Shizune. Ok? Don't fuck around, Kurenai; you're too powerful for us to lose on a technique."

"I'm not fucking around, Anko." Kurenai bristled at her friend's coddling, only to receive another long look.

"I'm not blind, you know?" She whispers, violet eyes scrunching up slightly as she tried to smile through some unknown memory. "Everyone thinks it, but I'm _not._"

"I know, Anko-chan." Kurenai's brow creased in consideration. "Let's get back in line."

* * *

"YOU'RE LATE!" 

Kakashi _was_ late. He was incredibly late. It was past 4pm – his students had, presumably, been waiting since 10am, unless they'd used their heads and started taking shifts at the memorial like he'd been hinting at for months – and he had about two hours before he had to meet that ANBU escort; and the elusive Copy Nin was, quite frankly, shitting himself a little at the prospect of this coming mission. He was in a little over his head.

"Maaa, sorry I'm late..." Kakashi strolled right past his students, clicking his fingers in a gesture that they should follow. They did so with surprisingly little fuss. "…I was sleeping."

The four shinobi stopped dead in their tracks as the information sunk in. Kakashi's back was facing the three deeply shocked teenagers, so that they couldn't see his slightly manic grin. '_Mustn't laugh at them – I bet even Sasuke's pulling **that** face!'_

"WHAT!" Naruto and Sakura appeared in front of Kakashi, ranting and screeching in their indignation.

"Hn." Sasuke started. "Whoever told you that 'honesty is the best policy' should've done more work with the basics."

"Seriously, you have to stop being so normal," Kakashi mock-glared at his usually moody charge. "I won't know what to say to people if word gets out that you've lost your angst!"

Sasuke obviously wasn't amused, just glared up at his teacher – a look of intense hatred Kakashi could fondly remember from when his student had been but yay high – as he led his students to a favourite training field.

Kakashi sat beneath one of the larger trees, lounging against the rough bark as he waited patiently for the three to settle down. When Naruto and Sakura had quietened – apparently deciding between gritted teeth that if nothing else, they appreciated the Jounin's honesty – and Sasuke had lapsed happily into his usual scowl, Kakashi gestured for them all to sit with him.

"Today isn't going to be much of a lesson – I have to leave for a mission that could take several… erm… a while." Kakashi scratched at his head, squinting at the bright sunlight reflecting off the trees.

"Is that why you're wearing those clothes?" Naruto asked innocently, noticing for the first time Kakashi's lighter coloured clothing – The brown mask and flak jacket, thicker khaki coloured trousers and a tightly fitting jumper. If Kakashi hadn't been expecting it, he probably would have had a brain haemorrhage out of sheer incredulity.

"Aaa, several of the Jounin have offered to teach you in my place, so your training will continue when it can. Tsunade may also need you to take some missions – don't moan at the grading of them, Naruto, they need to be done." Kakashi paused at the amused look exchanged between Sakura and Sasuke, and Naruto's own obvious irritation.

"There is one small thing I wish for you to work on, while I'm gone." Kakashi grinned beneath his mask, hoping it wouldn't show too clearly. He nicked his thumb on a kunai at his side, making the hand seals for his personal summons. Three grey puppies sprang into existence on Kakashi's lap – the smallest of the three immediately digging his head beneath its master's hand, desperate for attention.

"All three of you have come a long way in terms of team-work, ability and responsibility. However." Kakashi looked his students sternly, exposed eye taking on a severe glint even as his hands fussed soothingly over the three scruffy bundles in his lap. "You have no idea how to lead. Not one of you is capable of considering the strengths of the other members of your team. Until you can lead, how can you follow? You must learn to respect one another, and you _will _work on that skill while I'm gone."

"What has that go to do with your dogs, Kakashi-sensei?" Sakura tried to sound serious, tried to be true to the new respect for her teacher that had been growing ever fonder since that fight last Sunday – it didn't take a genius to realise that it had Jiraiya to break Kakashi's hand, but she hadn't even told Sasuke or Naruto that fact just yet.

But her attempts at solemnity crumpled even as her inner self squealed at the unbelievable cuteness of those puppies. Their pointy little ears perked up and their scruffy little tails thumped gleefully as her sensei scratched beneath their tiny little jowls. She pressed her fists to her lips to hold back an '_awww' _as the tongue of the smallest pup lolled out blissfully as Kakashi started attending to its sensitive neck.

"To prove your leadership qualities, you're going to turn these cute little puppies," Kakashi's eyes scrunched up in a cheerful grin as he paused. "Into Nin-Dogs."

x

Kakashi broached the border of Stone Country in the early hours of Thursday morning. As he sped into unknown dangers, totally alone with no comfort, no back up, and no support should this mission (as he had no doubt it would) turn horribly, terribly ugly; as Kakashi turned away from all manner of comfort, he decided to himself that, despite all things, whatever should happen…

…that _look_ on his students' _faces_ – when he suggested the training with the nin-pups – would be enough to keep him entertained for _months_ of torture.

x

He just hoped that wouldn't be put to the test…

* * *

**END OF CHAPTER 11!**

**Thanks to:**

**Sna **(YourSuzume owns all!)**, telosphilos**

**Isolde1: **I can't get over the idea of Asuma hoarding his doujinshi now. The image is burned in my brain, and it's so strange. You can just picture him, hiding in a dark room, a jazz-club-esque haze of smoke surrounding him – giggling over his smutty doujin. Obviously he'd foolishly choose Kurenai's apartment (I imagine her the type to have broadband) to read his smut in, and the ensuing explanation would have to defy even Konoha logic. But thank you, apart from that image: P, glad you liked!

**Alana Quinn: **Thank you! And me too! The wait killed me! Thanks for the Jiraiya Vs Kakashi comment – trying to make that fight at a plausible level was why it took so long to upload (aside from ffn's spiv)! Glad you thought it paid off! XD As for Iruka – he interacts with so many parts of the village – Chuunin, mission room, _teaching,_ I just felt it was more realistic that everyone _would_ be involved (and have you ever been to a party with small kids? They do that – the boppy circly dance thing – it's all they do. Bounce bounce bounce twirl. Nightmare!).

**TheMarmaladeCat: **Nooo /revives you! But thank you, team 7 are just _too_ important to this story, but then, every one seems to be getting into their own little drama. I should learn to make a plot :S.

**Hokai Amplifier: **Wow, thank you! (Sorry about the overwhelm-y, but I'm mean like that : D)

**MommyRogers: **That's such a great compliment, thank you! I adore Team 7 – when they work – so I'm really trying to push that side of them a little bit! I'm avoiding anything that's pointlessly graphic (half due to ffn's regulations, and half because of my own ability), but there are some things that – in my view – are necessary to the future plot. Anything more than a kiss though, I WILL put up a warning in the A/N, because I am so grateful that so many people are giving my writing a chance – despite the yaoi – and I don't want to offend anyone needlessly XD. Thank you again!

**Nezuko: **Thank you so much as ever, your reviews always make me grin. (lol, yeah, the lack of angst was, I'd imagine, something of a shock :P) I really appreciate how you always find something in my writing for me to focus on, whether it's something that needs improvement or is going right! Hope you're feeling better, or at least get well soon!

**Iteria: **Thank you for the compliment!

**Corycian Muse: **Thank you XD especially about the timelines. Hopefully I'm doing enough to explain what's going on without losing everyone, but that's what reviews are for, to yell and … stuff… XD And the ANBU are just pretty! They need more screen time/grrr/

Huge thanks to:** Sora-sama, Kimi No Vanilla, Jemiul, Roi du Ballet, Zenna, Azamiko, Twin Sun Leader, Fire Draygon, Thread Spool and Fuhrer!**


	12. 12

**Notes: **Sorry it's taken so long! All Stone Nin are OC's because they have to be XD.  
**Thanks again for all your support, especially those kind enough to leave such helpful reviews!**

**Shameless Pimping:** If any of you enjoyed the Kakashi/Rin sequence way back in chapter 7 of this fic, please check out a one-shot by Sna, titled: _Fifteen_ It's a cut-scene from this fic, based on the one time Rin tried to kiss Kakashi! It is so worth a read through if you get a chance, a really awesome piece. www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/r/2425883/0/1/ Seriously though, what are you waiting for?

For Telosphilos, whose encouragement, feedback, ideas and puppy names are priceless XD.

(And thanks to Azamiko and Delusional Kitty, who pointed out an incredibly STUPID mistake on my part, lol XD going back through, I can't believe how many times I did that:S)

* * *

On Thursday afternoon, Jiraiya strolled into Iruka's classroom.

This occurrence might have been strange enough, but when the old shinobi sat himself down on one of the unused desks at the back of the room, Iruka found himself unable to look away. Jiraiya didn't say a word, just sat and stared at the class' meagre attempts to learn _Henge_, and despite his attempts to remain calm, Iruka ended the class half an hour early – just to be rid of that contemplative – judging – gaze.

"Very good, Iruka-sensei!" Jiraiya actually clapped gleefully as he strolled down to the front of the classroom where Iruka was packing up his things, his back to the other man, so as not to show just how nervous the other man made him. Iruka might have been closer than many to the Sandaime, but Jiraiya was completely unpredictable.

"Forgive me, Jiraiya-sama," Iruka bowed slightly as he politely questioned the superior shinobi. "But why the hell did you disrupt my class?"

Jiraiya laughed nervously, scratching at the back of his head – and it was so reminiscent of Kakashi – and even Naruto - that Iruka _itched_ to know the history there.

"Well, you see, sensei, I thought it best that, as Kakashi's touchstone," he grinned as Iruka's eyes widened, "you are fully aware of his latest messes and adventures."

Iruka considered his answer. "How did you know, Jiraiya-sama?"

"I'm his second touchstone." If Iruka had been shocked before, he was doubly so. The Sannin _himself_ was Kakashi's point of contact?

"Kakashi is on an unclassed mission, and may be gone for many weeks. It isn't an ANBU mission, but it _is_ highly classified. He was no doubt unaware of how much he could say – he hasn't even told his students half of what he could have." Jiraiya leant his hip on the desk, crossing his arms as he studied the stunned Chuunin. "Judging from the look of you, you had no idea about the mission – try not to take offence."

"Of course, Jiraiya-sama." Iruka looked up questioningly, not really surprised that Kakashi hadn't said goodbye. _Goodbye_ was an awkward word between friends. "Is there any way to contact Kakashi-san?"

Jiraiya grinned at the boy's formality. "You must think me blind!" he chuckled. "There is no way to get things to _him_, but I will keep you informed as best I can. How's that?"

"Thank you, Jiraiya-sama." Iruka bowed again, shaking now – to think that the legendary Toad Hermit would do _Iruka_ favours. He wasn't surprised to find Jiraiya gone before he'd even straightened.

x

Half an hour later and Iruka was no better informed. Konoha's Gossip Vine had, oddly enough, been sorely devoid of any information regarding the Hidden Leaf's Copy Nin.

There was the several days old news of Kakashi's defeat of Jiraiya – news to Iruka's ears, but time would tell on that one. It was obvious that the obscene exaggeration had already set in – a warning to gossips that one must remain aware of their surroundings at all times, in order to ensure fresh, unembellished information was all that the shinobi received.

Kakashi's battle had already become epic. Genma in particular was taking great joy in telling the more gullible Chuunin about Kakashi's broken hand and how he stopped one of Jiraiya _Hunter Winds_ with just one look from that fabled Sharingan Eye. There were more plausible reports (from Raidou) that Kakashi had apparently used the Sharingan through a clone, but Iruka wasn't sure that was possible, since the eye was so tenuously linked into Kakashi's real body.

The biggest news of the moment was that of Team Gai's disappearance – they were a day late back from a standard clear out mission, aiding the ANBU prepare for something or another. If they'd been ambushed, the enemy may have captured Konoha's most promising weapons expert, taijutsu expert and Byuukagen user, all in one go; the repercussions that might bring upon Konoha would, with such great information, be disastrous.

x

Half an hour later, Iruka had given up on the Gossip Vine, and chosen a different tact. The Gennin had impressive links of their own; And Naruto was _always_ hungry.

* * *

Kakashi had a tendency to over think situations; one of the reasons Kakashi had managed to survive for so long was his unfailing paranoia.

As a young shinobi, so constantly exposed to his father's delusions and disintegration, Kakashi had genuinely thought that everything was out to get him – though as the years progressed that feeling became ever more justified. The irony was that the more reason there was for his extreme paranoia, the more comfortable Kakashi became.

On missions, on training, on anything that called for some level of professional detachment, Kakashi was able to put aside his emotions, his humanity and just get on with being ninja. Many of his comrades had assumed over the years that Kakashi's tense functioning on field missions was his normality; his team mates had thought he was weird. His sensei had teased him mercilessly.

After pausing a few moments to settle his mind, Kakashi had performed a quick scout around the Hidden Stone Village, marking out good hiding places, good listening points, obvious guard posts and quick exits from the large open squares the villages was built around. He quickly found the Tsuchikage's rooms – a low level, heavily guarded and incredibly lavish granite structure – and worked his way inside to the Kage's library.

Entering through a random window, Kakashi found himself in a neglected and shut off room, littered with old planning designs and maps of the village. Pocketing a few, Kakashi went on to finish his _tour _of the village, following the small river down stream into the surrounding plains.

Kakashi immediately felt exposed and disoriented by the lack of trees, and followed the stream down further than he would have liked, simply to stay out of the range of the village's high guard towers. He saw now why Tsunade had insisted on this clothing – the light browns camouflaged him well in the tall, dry grasses of the Stone's plains – but strong, low winds pushed him towards the clear paths of the river. Some guarding jutsu, perhaps? Or just an oddity of the country's weather?

About 10 minutes jog from the village proper, the grasses tapered off and a rockier landscape overshadowed the flat land. Kakashi found a particularly dry, dusty, awkward cave, and made camp there, settling his packs to begin working on those maps, and how best to approach this mission.

According to the maps, the village was divided into four main quarters, spiraling out from the focus point – the Tsuchikage's Towers and the Stone Academy. The Northern quarter seemed to be made up of specialized training fields – taijutsu and ninjutsu if Kakashi understood the shorthand correctly. The Southern quarter was made up of Clan Housing – he'd have to take note of any particularly strong clan abilities. The Eastern Quarter – farthest from Kakashi's base – was unmarked, so probably involved the law enforcers and interrogators - or whatever the Stone's equivalent of the ANBU was. The quarter nearest to Kakashi was marked 'residential' – the Copy Nin hoped that meant it was poorly guarded, and easier to scavenge food from.

Kakashi slept as long as he dared before beginning a series of short surveillance exercises to gather information. He first had to establish the village's tracking abilities – to what lengths must he go to disguise his presence? He hoped they relied on sight and sense, as he'd already decided to use as little chakra as possible to better aid his extended use of the Sharingan. Then it was a matter of getting to know the village – to get used to navigating the strange, desolate rock structures and brickwork buildings – there was very little greenery here, a Sand and Granite City that added to Kakashi exposed paranoia.

Sleeping in was his first mistake.

* * *

"Say: _Naruto_! Come on, pup, say: _Nah-ruu-toh!_"

Naruto – lying nose to nose with a scruffy grey puppy on the top of a tall building overlooking the Academy – spluttered in protest as a hot wet tongue licked doggy breath all over his face.

"_SUSHI!" _The blonde shinobi scrambled backwards, ignoring Kiba's teasing laugh and Hinata's quickly stifled, adoring squeal. She'd taken to Sushi in a big way, though Kiba had laughed when Naruto told him the mission brief.

"I'll explain this to you one more time, Naruto-_baka_," The Inuzuka gave a canine grin as he watched Sushi continue to jump up at Naruto, desperate for affection. "You will _never_ turn _that_ into a Nin-Dog."

"Ah, shut up." Naruto grumbled half-heartedly, sticking his tongue out as Akamaru yapped some snide little insult. "I have to beat Sasuke, I _have _to. Kakashi-sensei's trusting us with his dogs – that's like, _huge_. I _can't_ let that bastard think he's more responsible than I am!"

"I know, Akamaru, he just won't listen." Kiba growled to his dog's yapping. "I'm telling you, you air-headed moron, no matter how well you train that dog it will _never_ make a Nin-Dog. I guarantee!"

"_Shut up you bastard! _I don't want to _hear_ what I can and can't do! Are you gonna tell me how you trained Akamaru or _not_!" Naruto's frustrated yell petered out into a pathetic sort of pleading – Sushi rolled onto his back, exposing the soft of it's underbelly in hope of a good scritch. Hinata happily complied, smiling as Sushi's hind leg jerked in rhythm; the boys looked on miserably before rounding on each other.

"Of course I'm not!" Kiba yelled.

"WHAT?" the boys were inches away from each other, Sushi's leg twitching to a still as he stared up interestedly. Naruto raised his voice, scrunching up his eyes to better project his frustration. "WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME?"

"THEY'RE _INUZUKA METHODS!_" Kiba screeched, enjoying the argument. "My mum would _kill_ me if she knew I'd helped _you_ help _Hatake-san_. She says his dogs are too eclectic, too flashy. She says they're inelegant and dog-like."

"Uh?" The heat fell from Naruto's glare as his shock registered. "Of course they're doglike."

Kiba sniffed disdainfully. "See?"

"They're _dogs,_ Kiba!" Naruto grinned at his friend's dumbfounded expression. "Apart from Pakkun, he's a bit… you know… weird." Naruto made a circling gesture at his temple. "He uses the same shampoo as Sakura-chan!"

"That explains it." nodded the other boy.

"What?" squeaked Hinata. "Kiba-kun, Naruto-kun, you're not making any sense!" Akamaru and Sushi barked in agreement, turning immediately to growl at each other, circling. "Boys!" The Hyuuga heir sighed.

"I can't _fail_ this!" Naruto sulked, flopping down to scratch behind Sushi's ears, pulling him away from Kiba's Nin-Dog. The pup went immediately boneless against the blonde's leg.

"What's the big deal?" Kiba drawled out, genuinely curious. "You aren't dog trainers, any of you – and he must've given you the _worst_ set of dogs I've _ever_ seen!"

Hinata leant in to better survey the conversation - she knew from Kurenai-sensei that a fly on a wall was always necessary. Besides, this was interesting – and any gossip she found out about the Team Elite went straight to her sensei, who always found little ways to pay Hinata back for the information.

"How's this, Kiba – You tell me why this dogs are so impossible to train, and I'll tell you why it's so important that we succeed, ok?" Kiba weighed up Naruto's proposition.

"Deal. They are normal dogs." Kiba ignored Naruto's indignant screech and carried on. "They will never be Nin-Dogs. There's no chakra in them for a start. Kakashi-san has such _useless_ summons. I'm surprised Hana thinks so highly of them. She's like a fangirl, I swear!"

"I don't think they're useless!" Hinata protested, unsurprised when Naruto's crestfallen look didn't dissipate.

"BASTARD-SENSEI!" the blonde shinobi yelled. "A few months ago, Kakashi-sensei took us all to the training fields after a three hour lecture on team-work. He said we'd had a '_difficult time lately'_ and we were '_greatly improving_.' He made us sound awesome."

Naruto continued. "That no-faced, backstabbing, lazy-arse bastard then told us that we deserved a treat for all our hard work. He told us to spar, and that if Sakura won, he'd cook us all dinner – as long as we didn't mind him not wearing the mask. We knew there had to be some trick, so we made the fight look as realistic as possible – Kakashi watched me and Sasuke throw ourselves from the treetops for a good half an hour before saying - "

Naruto paused, tugging his hitae-ate over one eye as he performed an appalling impression of his teacher. " _'Maaaaaa- you hesitated before you sparred. My impression of you? You're all cheats! No treat for you!_' Can you _believe _it? We were sooo close and he _knew_…."

Sushi wriggled excitedly, bouncing up at Naruto, obviously missing his master. Kurenai would _love_ this information, thought Hinata. To think the Jounin used such cruel mind games against his own students, and to such great effect! There could be no denying the brilliance of Team 7's many ploys to trick their enemies, the easy way each one knew what their team-mates were likely to be doing – their team formations weren't so precise as Team 10's, nor did they know each other like Team 8 did – but with power like theirs, Team 7 didn't really need to go to such lengths to ensure their own survival.

However, with power came ego; with ability came over-confidence; and what Kakashi had managed to instil in his team – whether intentionally or not - was a motivation greater than the promise of power, a motivation so intrinsically curious - even childlike - that they had something binding them together outside of their duty to Konoha.

Kiba seemed to miss the importance of the experience, as Naruto finished his tale forlornly. "…we were just so _close_ to seeing his face…"

* * *

Hantaro Tak crouched low between the large tree's high branches, forming several quick hand seals, desperately trying to gather the chakra needed to mask his presence for just a few precious moments while he caught his breath.

He struggled to control his speeding heartbeat as his enemies crept past, concerned that he hadn't the chakra left to conceal his own form and keep hold of the jutsu protecting his package. The young girl squirmed in his arms, fighting for consciousness, and he mumbled affectionately into her hair, calming her. He couldn't let the child wake – it would be safer all round if he could just _get her home _to the Village without risking her panic alerting the enemy shinobi.

He scraped deep red hair off his face from where it had come loose from his ponytail in muddy, blood-greasy clumps. A shudder worked through his lithe form as a foot crunched lightly three inches from his face. The shinobi looked his way, and Tak realised with a sick jolt that the long staff secured to his back would probably be outside the range of the concealing jutsu. Eyes wide, he barely noticed the flare of his own chakra – warding off the enemy nin.

It was _stupid _of him, getting so close to the bunkers – those bastard shinobi had been expecting it, waiting for it. Shortcut or not, it was a stupid, amateur move. He thought of his superiors, those great elites who had assumed that the enemy would want to fight only in the trees – who assumed this new war would play out so much like the Third Secret War – the one that had stripped him of everything at such a young age. Now it looked like they were taking the same precautions as his comrades were.

Tak took a deep breath, forcing himself to analyse the situation calmly. Three shinobi had spotted him, they knew that he'd _seen _them working on the old bunkers – just like his village was preparing to do – and he knew that unless he could at damage each of them he _would not_ leave this forest alive. Tak was good – he had been an active ninja since his childhood – but he wasn't sure if he was good enough to kill four elite ninja with a child in his arms. He searched for the weak-link – ignoring the abrasive appearance of the group as he recognised the eldest of the shinobi – a sensei now? Tak might've laughed at another moment.

The girl, then, she must be the weakest; he'd deal with her last, if she couldn't take a hint. The teenaged ninja standing on his branch was obviously of some blood limit – he kept looking _through_ Tak, searching for strains of chakra, if what he remembered of this clan was correct.

_Thank fuck for Hatake Kakashi,_ Tak thought as he remembered the information the Copy Nin had so kindly shared so many years before. Blood limits had been one of the earliest things he could remember discussing with the infamous son of Konoha's White Fang – back when they'd been teenagers, and Tak had been awed and slightly dry-mouthed just standing in the other shinobi's presence – it was that information that was saving his pretty little arse right now.

Tak struggled not to laugh at the irony.

He loosened the knot of the fabric sling that kept the huge staff in place, pulling the weapon slowly and silently over his head to rest on his knees. Moving the girl carefully onto his back, he looped the sling back around his torso, securing the girl to his body. He used her own blanket to cover her tiny form, hoping she would look simply like a pack of some sort, and the enemy ninja would avoid aiming for her. If what he remembered about this particular Jounin was correct, he had nothing to worry about even if he _did_ notice the suspicious package.

Creating a clone mid-air beneath him, Tak used it to grab the ankles of the teenaged shinobi, the dead weight of the hanging clone holding the ivory-eyed boy securely in place. Tak swung out with his staff, still holding shreds of the concealment jutsu to his form, still blocking the enemy's eyesight. Cloth-wrapped arms moved quickly to block the blow and the red-haired shinobi quickly detached one end of the staff, using the metal tip of the ornate weapon to slam into the boy's exposed temple. The white-eyed shinobi failed to react to the fast, jutsu aided blow - slumping to the ground as Tak's clone dissipated from existence.

Tak immediately began speeding through the trees - only to be faced with the female of the enemy team. Not stopping in his loping run, Tak spun past the barrage of weaponry, again using the shorter end of the staff to kneecap the young shinobi, slamming down on the kunoichi's soft joint and ignoring the anguished noise so desperately half-stifled. Tak retightened the knot on his chest without stopping, tugging his precious package back into a more central position his back, not at all surprised when he heard the speeding rush of the team's leader.

The Jounin moved at such a speed to create at dusty tail as he skidded to a halt in front of Tak, blocking the shinobi's path.

"_You bastard_!" The man struck a pose; his arm quivering angrily as he screamed into Tak's shocked face. Tak tried to rein in his expression, a snide smirk crossing his face as he realised that his enemy couldn't even_ remember _him. "You would _injure_ my _precious students_? It's a _cowardly_ thing!"

"Maito Gai," Tak drawled sinisterly, knowing how it would offend the other man. "You haven't changed at all."

"Hn?" A small sound of surprise before Gai launched towards him, apparently deciding to forego his curiosity in favour of beating his enemy senseless. Tak breathed the words of his incomplete, signature jutsu as he deflected the other man's blows. There was no way he could _defeat _Konoha's taijutsu master, but he _could _win this battle for now.

Tak grinned as his staff flickered with chakra, moving at a blur as he spun to catch Gai in the temple.

The red-haired shinobi didn't wait to see the state of his opponent as he retreated, aware of how much of his chakra and stamina that jutsu wasted and worried about whether or not he'd be able to run for the next ten minutes; let alone the four days travel it would take to get home, back to Hidden Stone. His mission was to deliver the girl safely. He _had_ to get home.

Panting as he ran, hopelessly willing his stumbling legs to just hold up a little longer, Tak moved gradually closer to the Fire Country borders. Once, and only once, Tak tripped over a body half buried in the filth of the forest floor – he'd accidentally stumbled across the remnants of some fight between Stone's rebel allies and Konoha's troops.

He stood slowly, wiping his now mud-gritty hands on the back of his trousers before dragging the body over to stare vacant eyed up at the Stone Nin. Seeing the hitae-ate, and grinning at the much despised symbol of the Hidden Leaf; Tak spat upon the corpse of his young enemy.

_Fuck 'em all_, he promised himself; _Konoha will burn._

* * *

The heat was stifling in Konoha, and it was all Kurenai could do to prevent innocent blood being shed as Anko spotted Team 8, lounging around the training fields, watching the Kunoichi train.

They were taking their precious time devouring their cool ice-pops – Shino lazily looked on as Hinata licked daintily at her fruit-flavoured stick, while Kiba slurped messily at his – grinning wildly as Anko all but spat in his direction.

"_I want an ice-cream break!" _The violet haired woman hissed, trying to shrug off Kurenai's steely grip on her arm.

"You'll only get hotter if you keep wasting your energy like that." Irritation was obvious in Kurenai's voice – the heat triggering a more potent wave of nausea than she was used to. Something had to be done about all this. And soon. "You're acting like a kid, and everyone's noticing. It's probably the only reason the ANBU are letting my students watch."

Anko froze, her resentment for the ANBU Cat making her think far more deviously than she would have otherwise. "So… If I'm well behaved… I get ice-cream?"

Kurenai sighed. "If you behave, I'll buy your ice-cream myself."

Anko let out a cheerful little sound as she bounded back into formation with the other women. Kurenai exchanged an amused look with Shino, she could see by his posture that he'd been paying attention. Kiba was too busy staring at a bead of melted liquid as it dropped down Hinata's chin. Kurenai grinned to herself – for all the girl's clear-sightedness, Hinata was so oblivious to the attention she received from her male friends. It was so cute!

"Alright, ladies. JAB!" Screamed the ANBU Cat. "STEP, TURN AND AGAIN!"

Team 8 watched as the women carried out basic, but powerful moves. Over and over, until Anko or one of the other more outspoken kunoichi would complain, and they would take a quick water break before moving back into their lines. Kurenai and Anko were right at the back of the formation, with many clumsier Jounin positioned at the front. The women were obviously lined up by skill-level, and it pleased Kurenai's students to see their sensei so competent compared to so many female ninja.

"Why do you think they're doing this now?" Kiba asked his team-mates, quivering slightly in his slouch. If he had a tail it'd be wagging – like Akamaru's against his master's arm.

"Preparing." Hinata blushed as the two boys gave her their full attention. "Ino-chan – she says that there's a – a_ war_ coming, all the ambushes - and that everyone's worried. The village wants to avoid it."

Shino nodded thoughtfully as Hinata swallowed the lump in her throat. Kiba just scratched behind his ear – attentive, for once.

"My father said something like that." Shino mentioned, keeping his voice low for reasons unknown even to himself. "He says the Kikkai have been acting similar to how they did in the Third Secret War."

"How's that?" Kiba asked, still scratching away.

"Nervously. I agree. Everything's… tense." Thin eyebrows creased above dark sunglasses. "Like before a storm."

"Maybe we should train too?" Hinata suggested shakily after the ANBU Cat's piercing screech had her jumping in fright. Anko had tripped again, apparently, and all ANBU style wrath fell quickly upon her. They could see Kurenai trying to mask a snicker.

It was odd, Hinata thought, that she could be more comfortable with her eccentric team-mates than she was anywhere else. She wasn't blind to why – with their specialist skills – it had been Kurenai to teach them; the woman's entire clan had been said to weave illusions like they were the Yuuhi's reality. It was a strange place to exist, quite outside of normality, but it allowed her to understand the differing realities of the Aburame's, the Hyuuga's and the dog-like Inuzuka's. She would never be afraid of their oddities.

"In what? Dynamic Marking?" Akamaru barked excitedly, standing to wag his little tail freely. "Hah! Nice one Akamaru!"

"No! Please!" Hinata's face grew bright at the teasing. "Perhaps we should train together, in something more basic, like taijutsu?"

"You're taijutsu doesn't need that kind of improvement." Shino murmured, not wanting to embarrass Hinata with the compliment. "The _Gentle Fist _training is strenuous enough for other combat styles to come naturally to you. Even Neji-san thinks you're improving."

"Neji-niisan is very skilled." She flushed a little, but didn't deny the comment. An improvement, Shino felt.

"And there's no point practising Genjutsu, our skill are too based in physical reality." Kiba's comment earned him a nod from Shino – the boy's insights, when they came, were insightful and true. It had just taken so long to get him considering things _other_ than pranks, territory, and food!

Akamaru barked something about Ninjutsu, but Kiba didn't bother translating. Shino settled himself down to watch his teacher's determined movements as Hinata and Kiba continued to talk about honing their skills.

When the kunoichi had finished their sequence, they started it again.

* * *

The sun rose spectacularly in Konoha, but the Haruno household did not wake with the same great, tumbling peace.

Sakura automatically tore down the stairs of the two storey building, kunai in hand, trusting her trained ears to find the source of her mother's bloodcurdling scream. No one messed with a ninja in their own home, as their foolish enemy was about to find out.

"FILTHY LITTLE BEAST, I'LL SKIN YOU!" As soon as she'd reached the traditional sliding panel separating the kitchen from the main room, and heard the answering terrified yap, Sakura began to back away.

Sakura's mother was kind, warm-hearted, loving and supportive. But she didn't like scruffy people, or lazy people, or those that refused to work for their dreams. And apparently, Sakura's mother didn't like dogs.

The panel slid open – meeting the wooden frame with an aggressive thump.

"That _rat…_" her voice was cold, deliberate, barely restrained, and Sakura wanted to run, to hide, to let _anyone_ else in the world take the brunt of this woman's wrath. "That _horrid _little rat… has to go."

"What did he do? Joben, here boy!" The puppy yelped, scurrying to hide behind Sakura, obviously terrified of the volume.

"It… it…" Sakura watched nervously as her mother search for the words, a million-and-one pranks that a Nin-Dog of _Kakashi's_ might be capable of, running like wildfire through her mind. "It… _widdled_ on the kitchen floor!"

Sakura coughed to mask a snort. "Pardon?"

"_You heard me, young lady!" _Sakura's face twisted as she tried to hold back a giggle – if her mother had ever met Pakkun she was certain the woman would be more forgiving of a simple _accident_.

"It's only a puppy; he's probably not even house-trained yet." Sakura said sweetly. "That's part of my training – Kakashi-sensei says…"

"I don't want to hear it!" Her mother's voice rose a full octave. "One more incident like this and it goes! Now get out! Out!"

"Yes, mum." The panel slammed again as it shut, and Sakura grinned at her mother's frantic silhouette racing around the kitchen.  
She picked up Joben, taking him to her room while she got ready to leave for training. He trembled adorably in Sakura's arms, burrowing his little face into her chest as she bounced up the stairs. "Yeah, you're definitely one of Sensei's, aren't you? You little pervert!"

Joben yipped lovingly, and Sakura set him down on her bed, wandering into the bathroom to clean up.

Half an hour later, Sakura happily opened her bedroom door to find Joben sitting on the top of a small hill. A small hill made out of every piece of fabric in her room... bed sheets, pillow casings, clothing and even her underwear. Little scratch marks remained on her drawers where the puppy had scavenged there, and feathers from her comfortable and indulgent pillows floated aimlessly around the room. His little tail was caught in the leg of her widest, most embarrassing pair of knickers, waving them to and fro rhythmically.

Sakura - suddenly understanding her mother's understated pain - screamed.

* * *

Unfortunately for Kakashi, it turned out that Stone's tracking ability was extremely good. The six assembled elite Jounin of the Rock Village had quickly picked up on the unwelcome presence – one particular Jounin, a blind tracking master, sniffed quickly at the air, moving towards the open window.

"Should we alert the Tsuchikage?" A blonde shinobi asked his comrades, eyes nervously darting about the room.

"Go." The low voice of their superior ground them all to attention. "The rest of us will follow it – if Hanamaru-san thinks the scent of his body is clear?"

The tracking master grunted his agreement, and the blonde bowed briefly before disappearing. The five remaining shinobi immediately gave chase, racing through the village in teams of two – the tracking master simply following the intruder's scent while his comrades flanked him, trying to second guess the enemy's movements.

They sped the length of the village, spiralling out, eventually leaping over the west gate as the tracking master followed the undisguised odour through a quickly dug tunnel barely reaching beneath the wall itself.

"We're gaining on it." Their pursuit was faster on the plains – two shinobi glimpsed a grey streak some metres ahead of them; weaving through the tall grasses, buffeted about slightly by the strong wind.

"The wind's affected the scent, can you see it?" The tracking master smiled grimly as his superior answered in the affirmative. It struggled inside one of the small caves and they all halted in their astonishment.

"Well, he's just gone and shot himself in the foot."

"There's no escape from in there." The red-haired commander smirked, adjusting the staff on his back. "Who wants the honours?"

"I'll do it," hissed a dark haired, violently scarred man, pulling a short tanto from his belt.

"I'll cover you, Koukotsu-san." A younger woman offered coldly, mirroring her commander's smirk.

The two shinobi moved in carefully, wary of any attacks this enemy could make in such a confined space. They squeezed through the awkward tunnels, white dust settling brightly in the kunoichi's short dark hair, eventually moving into a larger cavern – dry, dusty and small, but a comfortable fit compared to the tight, claustrophobic entrance.

"Fuck." Koukotsu spat quietly, pausing as his companion edged into the main room.

"What? What is it?" Her eyes widened in utter shock as she saw what her team-mate had. "Oh." She acknowledged. "Fuck."

Two scruffy grey strays – filthy fur browned with earth and dust – fought energetically as another, slightly smaller one, lay behind them, breathing roughly, covering his muzzle lazily with one paw. Tugged to and fro playfully between the sharp, wet teeth of the two larger dogs was a chunk of meat – the flesh their tracking master had smelt so clearly, no doubt. Either that or the enemy had managed to get away somehow – but this cavern was a dead end, there was nowhere for the enemy to _go_.

The smaller dog's ears pricked up at the sight of the two shinobi, and its hackles rose as a growl reverberated through the cavernous space. The other two dogs crouched protectively in front of the smaller one, adding their own toothy grins to the echoing noise.

"Reiko, I think they're feral." Her companion edged backwards as he spoke, shoving Reiko further from the main cavern.

"Oh." She said, cheerfully. "Shit."

"Back off. Now!" Koukotsu's hand nudged her away persistently, and she scrambled to get out of the cave.

The barks and snarls chased them out, though the dogs didn't seem interested in getting them any further away than their immediate territory.

"Nothing in there but fucking _mutts_." Koukotsu spat at their tracking master. Reiko grinned at Tak's raised eyebrow – she could imagine what her team-mate was currently thinking of the tracking master's skills. To his credit, however, the blind man seemed to realise the red-head's dark thoughts.

"I smelt a man." He whispered urgently. "I did!"

"Have you had any dealings with the Hidden Leaf's Inuzuka dogs?" Tak's voice was devoid of emotion, affectedly cold – he must be close to breaking, Reiko thought.

"Yes, Hantaro-san." Koukotsu answered stiffly. "It wasn't an Inuzuka, and there is no other clan that fights with dogs."

"Then you were wrong, old man." A slight note of hysteria had them wondering what Tak had faced retrieving that child so close to Fire borders. They knew he had history there. "You waste our time like it was your own."

"We have more important things to be working on than chasing puppies." Reiko's clear voice cut through the rising argument. "So let's go and get on with it, yeah?"

x

Inside the cave, Kakashi all but fell out of the advance _Henge_ transformation. The chase had been difficult, and the canine appearance had been tricky to maintain throughout the run.

So they could track by scent – at least that blind one could – as well as sight and sense.

Eliminating his mark would be difficult – the scent of blood, sweat and urine clung insistently to the body of a ninja, he knew. He would have to stay clean, urinate downstream of the village so he could not be tracked back to the cave – preferably at specific times and waist deep in water. He'd need to find a way to maintain cleanliness of his uniform – or at least get so utterly fucking filthy no one would mistake him for human at all – but the trick was to mask your scent without the new one being out of place or overpowering, which could affect the success of a mission.

He could bed down with the mutts, perhaps? Their strong and specific scents would dehumanise his own – as long as he didn't make the amateur mistake of pissing away their scent – and allowing the mutts to roam freely around the village would provide an outlet for scavenging as well as convincing the shinobi that there were wild dogs on the plains.

It wouldn't be fun, but it would be a good motivator to eat at little as possible (no scent clung so much to a form as faeces) – a motivator he would need to keep his mind off the food the dogs would no doubt _provide_. Maybe he'd find a good opportunity to dispose of the blind tracker – something a little less conspicuous than a good push off a tall building?

The only other inconvenience was Kakashi's inability to make use of his Nin-Dogs. If the Copy Nin used any trick of his own, Tak would recognise it – and luck would have it that the crazy fuck was seemingly surrounded by sycophants and lackeys – it only made him harder to kill.

But Kakashi was nothing if not resourceful. If he couldn't kill Tak, he'd just have to work the other man to his favour.

* * *

Uchiha Sasuke thought himself a resourceful shinobi – but after three days of trying to cajole, threaten and drag an awkward little puppy out from under his stairs, Sasuke was completely out of ideas.

Unlike Naruto and Sakura – who each had gone to various Inuzuka's (Naruto's odd relationship with Kiba surely had its uses, and Sakura's medical training had brought her into the veterinary on several occasions, where Inuzuka Hana worked) to figure out how to train the pups – but Sasuke was almost certain that Kakashi wouldn't give them something they'd need extra help for.

Granted, there was some mind game involved, and the brief had been to affectively _train _the dogs – but Sasuke was learning, albeit slowly, to read beneath the underneath. And at the moment, no amount of books or advice was going to get his irritating little puppy out from underneath his fucking stairs!

"Kioshi…" the dark haired boy felt vaguely ridiculous crooning to the dog, knowing that if he'd been unable to get a reaction from the mutt yesterday he'd be unlikely to get any reaction now. But he was _late_ for training. Him. Sasuke. He was three hours late. Kakashi's average. It was _completely_ humiliating.

"Kiosshhhiiii pleeeaaasseeeee!" Sasuke flopped to the floor hopelessly. He extended his hand out to the dog – let it just rest there, rather than give in to his instinct to grasp – and was deeply shocked to find a cold, wet nose sniff warily at his loosely curled fingers.

"C'mon pup, you're making me look bad!" To Sasuke's utter amazement, Kioshi leapt out and onto Sasuke's chest – biting his shoulder before bounding out the door.

x

"I knew one day he'd pass his tardy-arsed laziness to the three of you." Genma grumbled loudly, chewing on a senbon, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the exhausted bags beneath both Naruto's _and_ Sakura's eyes; the too-cheerful puppies bounding around at their heels despite weak protests. Genma grinned, knowing how Kakashi would get _such_ a kick out of this. "I just knew it."

Eventually, Sasuke slowly trudged to team 7's meeting spot. Genma's eyes imperceptibly took in the dust in the Uchiha's usually perfect hair, the small, neat tear in the cloth at Sasuke's shoulder. His smug grin widened.

"Sorry I'm late." The Uchiha scowled and slouched and sniffed disdainfully at the puppy lapping at his wrapped ankles. "Sensei's dog ate my training brief."

* * *

Asuma woke slowly to find Shikamaru waiting patiently for his sensei to make his move.

"How long was I out?" His voice was rough but weak, Shikamaru nodded to the water jug on the table beside the bed.

"Only about half an hour." Shikamaru's drawl was soft, a tone usually reserved for Chouji, and Asuma realised just how worried he must've had everyone. Kurenai hadn't even visited yet, a sure sign of her denial. "Shiranui-san dropped by to inform you that Hatake-san has 'disappeared on some confidential mission', and there's no news on Maito Gai. He also said that the Kunoichi are training again, and you should really get better fast enough to appreciate it."

Asuma laughed, a retort coming quickly to his lips about how Genma could appreciate it – though he'd rather avoid _that_ conversation with his students for as long as possible. Once was enough.

"I'm not feeling up to chess, Shikamaru. Do you mind if we take a rain-check?"

"Sure, sensei…"

A rush of commotion from outside the small room as several medics wheeled three separate beds along. Anguished screams drifted in from the crowd, but became louder for a brief moment as a sobbing Rock Lee was shoved into Asuma's room.

"_Gai-senseeeeiiii! I've faiilllledd you!" _His hands were balled into fists, clenched in a dramatic position before the boy's chest. Asuma and Shikamaru exchanged a cryptic look of tentative amusement – hoping all was not so bad as it seemed.

"Lee!" Asuma's rough voice couldn't be heard past the green-clad shinobi's wailing – but Shikamaru's could. It always shocked the Jounin when his unmotivated student took on that commanding tone – he was infinitely proud to say he'd been the one to put that confidence there.

Bright round eyes glistened beatifically as he looked up to Shikamaru's cross legged perch on Asuma's bed. Asuma patted the chair next to him, gesturing for Lee to sit as Shikamaru carried on. "What happened?"

"A powerful opponent from Hidden Stone knocked both Neji-san and Gai-sensei unconscious. Tenten's knee was all but destroyed and the enemy escaped. The medics think it looks like a staff wound, they seem to find it familiar."

"That's not so bad," Shikamaru said, carefully, the slight conflict within his sensei's eyes not going unoticed. "What did the enemy look like?"

"I don't know; I was guarding the bunkers when I heard Tenten's scream – she told me to get help." A proud smile crossed Lee's tear-streaked face. "She attacked the medics when they tried to sneak up on her. She was aware enough to do that!"

"Tenten is highly skilled." Lee burst into grateful tears at Asuma's acknowledgement of his team-mate's strength.

Asuma's reply was vacant, though, automatic. He was remembering a shinobi from stone, highly skilled with the staff. He was remembering a boy who knew their strengths, and was fuelled by a spiteful insanity. Kakashi was on a confidential mission, and Gai had been bested by Hidden Stone. Grave coincidence indeed.

"Shikamaru, call the nurse. I need to find out when I can begin my training."

* * *

**END OF CH 12!**

**Massive thanks to:**

Alana Quinn: Thank you so much! XD This could go a lot of ways, so I hope I don't disappoint! Genma's so much fun!

Meleth78: Thanks so much for taking the time out to read this, despite the fact you were probably SO lost, lol XD Hope your work's coming along well!

Book of Changes: Thank you so much, I agree about Sasuke's leadership potential – it's just a case of teasing it out… Something Kakashi should be very good at, lol. As for his welfare, I wouldn't want to spoil anything… hehe…

Masked Shinobi: That's such a compliment, thank you! The complex characters are more fun though, aren't they?

Azamiko: I kind of see the ANBU as the MI5/CIA of their field – if a normal ninja is covert, I see the ANBU as being doubly so. So that's how I'm approaching them, I guess…It just doesn't really make sense to me to ignore the paperwork, lol!

Isolde: Thanks again for your encouragement XD

Guile:Mwuahahahaha! Team 7 puppies? The cuteness would kill! Thanks again!

Corycian Muse: Cheers! We should totally petition for more ANBU! And yeah, Kakashi's people skills might be a little crap, but I'm sure they're much better than they used to be! Hehe.

Sorviball: Thanks so much! The sentiments a little late, but I had my fingers crossed for your finals XD

Kopykat Kakashi: I'm pants at summarising, I know! Truth is, apart from a rough concept I'm not certain where this fic's going or what the main theme is – aside from exploring Kakashi and other characters that grab my interest. If anyone feels like providing a better/more descriptive summary, then please feel free! Thank you for the compliment though, it's appreciated!

Dyingstar-elipsis: Thank you so much! I'm glad you find it all natural! Hopefully the next few chapters will bring a little more vigour into the story, and it's definitely something I'll try and look out for in future XD Thanks for the comments!

Alana Hikari-chan: Thanks! The first chapter was my way of getting over writer's block, this kind of evolved from a moment of crackfic, lol. Thank so much for the compliments - if you have trouble putting faces to names, I've been using www(dot)leafninja(dot)com after Nezuko's suggestion XD

**Also to**: Tami, FireDraygon, Jemiul, Lady Guena, Night-Owl123, Zenna and Ying87:


	13. 13

**Notes: **All Stone Nin are original characters. I'm trying to fit them in at least relatively seamlessly so please feel free to cut rip. Tsuzumi's not an OC, but I did give him a new job :D

**Thanks again for all the support and criticism you've given!**

The last scene of this chapter (with Kotetsu and Izumo) was part of an idea that I really liked, but didn't really fit properly, or move much on in terms of… anything, really. It was cut a bit, but if you do want to read the full scene you can find it on my LJ, the link's on my userpage XD)

If you haven't already, go read **Tryin' to get to Heaven** by Hey-Diddle-Diddle. I don't know how you could've missed it, but just in case. XD

Finally: **GOOD LUCK** to everyone who's had exams these last few weeks!

* * *

Tense. Tense was a good word, it described many things.

It described the weather – the thickness of the heat as summer tried to break equilibrium, the calm before the storm that the animals and villagers alike were straining for, hoping for. It described the denseness of the air, as pollen and dust rose without the constraints of humidity or a breeze to make breathing laborious, let alone doing anything more.

It described the upper echelons of Konoha's society, who seemed to be gaining information every day and not liking what they heard. Who had been moving shinobi about – in their ranks or their positions – to strengthen the forces of the Leaf. It described Jiraiya's sudden _presence_, everywhere. His odd need to ensure the emotional resilience of his Hokage's troops by teasing, or questioning, or occasionally just caring.

It described the Jounin – the odd rush to raise the standard, to hone the simple things that they already – surely – should've known. They were better off than most, however, taking the weight of new missions, crushing expectation and near-exhaustion pretty much in their stride. They were more tightly knit, though, their circles had closed in dramatically; Team Elite in particularly seemed to be feeling their particular heat. Their students were picking quickly up on the rolling waves of tension, despite the hastily assembled veil of calm. Team 7 had seemed to pick up on the other Jounin-sensei's worrying about _theirs_, and had been wandering around looking lost for days.

It described the Chuunin's reaction to the sudden cut-back of missions – no shinobi of Chuunin or lower rank had stepped outside Konoha in a week and weren't expecting to anytime soon. Most were even pulled from their duties in the mission rooms; instead helping to train the younger shinobi or performing other, more immediately necessary duties.

It described how Umino Iruka would find himself in his classroom often until nine or ten at night, after spending the day teaching a double-sized class, drilling information into Gennin or the more worried pre-Gennin students who feared the coming war. Suzume had been transferred back into Intelligence, ensuring newer recruits understood the systems and arrangements as well as she had, back in her hey-day during the crux of the Third Secret War.

It described in buckets Kotetsu's reaction when he was informed that he and Izumo were expected to perform a B-class pick-up, as decoys for an expected ambush.

It described the heavy weight that settled itself on Konoha as they realised that there was still no pattern to the enemy ambushes, and that of the four most successful Jounin of the Hidden Leaf, only one was present and in fighting condition – except _she_ was expected to _train_. Kakashi's name entered the Gossip Vine again, as his disappearance became more and more pronounced.

x

It was a couple of weeks into Kakashi's mission – and Iruka found it odd that he was started to measure time this way – and the Chuunin was feeling the strain as much as anyone. If he thought this much time away from Kakashi could help figure out the twists and turns of their _almost _relationship, he was incredibly wrong. He hadn't told Jiraiya – though the man had proven as good as his word and kept Iruka informed of Kakashi's safety – but he had figured out more of the mission, thanks to Kakashi's own favours pulled.

The ANBU operative who had met Kakashi this last week had delivered four packages to Iruka's home. Three were addressed to Team 7 – training suggestions and teasing, no doubt, to make them paranoid as to how informed Kakashi remained while away from Konoha. Iruka grinned to himself, wondering how much improvement the teenagers had made with those dogs – Naruto hadn't seemed to understand even the basics of training a dog to obedience, let alone ninja abilities. Iruka himself had received a weightier package – a certain infamous orange book, dog-eared pages scattered throughout, the occasional marking or doodle in the margins.

Interestingly, chapter 14 was marked with the torn off edge of a map. Iruka didn't miss the significance. Reconnaissance, probably, if he didn't have time even to pretend to read his beloved porn and was instead playing with maps that – _oh, damn,_ Iruka thought, as the strong scent rushed through him in a thousand ways – smelt like Kakashi's dogs.

It was, Iruka decided three hours later – totally engrossed in the implausible world of the secret underground brothels the beautifully formed heroine had to infiltrate in order to track down her brother's equally stunning kidnapped fiancée, to save him from dying of a broken heart back at their home, where he had in his desolate madness imprisoned a young milk-maid, who the heroine had become infatuated with, hoping to bring the fiancée back to her brother to free the milkmaid from where she was kept naked in a small hanging cage – a good chapter to have marked.

x

Rubbing his temples fiercely as he tried to look a little less organised than usual, tried to cajole his alarmingly quiet students into pulling some stupid prank or another, Iruka felt like the whole world was falling to crap a little too early for it to mean anything.

"I'm guessing you're all tense because of the rumours of coming war?" Iruka perched on the edge of his desk, grinning at his sullen students, waiting for the more awake few to nod carefully. "You are aware that none of these rumours can be confirmed until the Hokage makes an announcement?" More nods, this time, and quicker to come. But still so quiet.

"Right. I'm going to give you some advice, and please don't overreact until I've explained myself, ok?" They nodded again, adorably well-behaved and almost comically attentive. Wide-eyed and obviously expectant of Iruka-Sensei's Emotional Miracle Cure.

"Stop worrying."

Several of the kids gasped at the stupidity of the advice, one little girl at the front looked like she was about to burst into tears. Hyuuga Hanabi just scoffed, mumbling about enough fate and misfortune to make Iruka's hackles rise.

"Bugger it" Iruka muttered to himself, telling his kids to hold on a second while he ran through to next door – where another Chuunin-sensei, SarugakuTsuzumi, held his class – throwing a quick suggestion to the other teacher.

Returning to his own classroom, Iruka began herding his students out into the playground. "We're going to go on a field trip." He announced, grinning, as Tsuzumi led his class beside Iruka's. They ordered the kids to partner up, double file, and Iruka led the squabbling, babbling line across the village. He spotted Naruto playing fetch with Sushi in one of the training fields, calling him over as he left Tsuzumi to settle the kids down in a semi circle.

"Hey, Naruto!" Iruka ruffled the boy's hair in greeting, leaning down to pet Sushi, yanking the drool-slick stick from the puppy's eager mouth.

"What do you _want_, Iruka-sensei?" Naruto crossed his arms, leaning back from his hips in a huffy, childish slump.

"Aah, you've got me!" Hands held up in a placating gesture, Iruka nodded towards his nervous clump of students. "They've heard rumours of war; no doubt their parents are panicking before they've got any of the facts. I was hoping I'd find you here – I think hearing some adventures from someone they don't see as an 'adult' would comfort them a little. I'm trying to stop them from worrying – panic causes death in war, Naruto."

"You think war's definite, then?" Naruto's eyes were worried, but not surprised. "Sure I will, Iruka-sensei!" The blonde held his thumb up as he grinned excitedly. "You'll owe me ramen though, how about that?"

"Sure. I'll feed you." Iruka rolled his eyes as he led the boy to the crowd of nervous kids, watched Naruto's expression travel through bravado, ego, pity and determination, before he asked what they wanted to hear about. Tsuzumi asked to hear a story from one of Naruto's first experiences of a difficult enemy, so that the children would know how strong a newly graduated shinobi could be.

For the next hour, thirty six children and two Chuunin teachers listened rapt as Naruto carefully explained that first defining A Class mission – the strength of Hatake Kakashi fighting Momochi Zabuza, the quick thinking of Naruto and Sasuke when their teacher seemed close to defeat. He'd honestly explained the brief panic they'd all felt when Kakashi had passed out, the easy way he teased them into improving their own skills and the thrilling camaraderie when he and Sasuke had finally reached their goals. He told about the battle on the bridge – brushing over Haku's age and death and making a meal of Zabuza's acknowledgement of his loss and final penitent glory.

He managed to tell the children, in a way they would never forget, that each shinobi walked his path by choice, fought for their own lives, and traded in death - but did not necessarily live to kill.

Iruka hadn't realised that Naruto was capable of quelling his self-elevating instincts, his need to _appear_ infinitely better than the world expected him to be. He wondered when that needy little boy had grown _again_, and where he had learnt to make the most of the truth, rather than skewing it. Iruka had never before heard the true tale of that mission, hadn't realised how deeply Team 7's bonds had been forged, and wondered again at their easy reacceptance of Sasuke after so much hurt. But then, perhaps that hurt explained it – Naruto had a way of making pain mean that something had been earned, and damn but they had made Sasuke _work_ for their acceptance.

Iruka cleared his throat as Naruto finished, turning to his tiny army. "Do you see, now, how very strong Konoha is? Each Gennin is placed in a team like Naruto-kun's. Each one is given an experienced shinobi to lead them. Each Gennin becomes a shinobi very quickly. Each shinobi agrees to give their lives for the Hokage, and the protection of their precious village. But there is more to it than that. The village will do everything it can to protect its beloved shinobi."

"Do you see why you should stop worrying?" Iruka asked, as Sushi wriggled his way onto Iruka lap, sniffing at his hands and legs affectionately – no doubt recognising Iruka's scent from its master's own body.

"If an enemy can find a way to defeat _this_ village – despite all we cherish and all we've been through – then it _deserves_ to defeat us." An excited, exhilarated murmur ran through the class at Iruka's words, their sudden pride and faith drowning out their confused fears.

* * *

_Fucking bastard blind son of a feral bitch!_

That tracker-nin just _had_ to go. Kakashi hadn't been able to move anywhere lately without the man on his tail – desperately trying to work his scent from the scent of the dogs he had been keeping with.

Three weeks (20 days, actually) into the mission, the infiltration of Stone and Kakashi was tired, achingly hungry, tense – perhaps a little too tense, he was losing precious sleep in his paranoid need for constant awareness – and extremely frustrated. He'd finally heard enough rumours of Tak's defeat of a Konoha team, Gai's name suffusing the gossip enough for Kakashi to snap – pinning his ANBU contact to a tree in an attempt to find the truth in the satisfied rumours. He'd copied dozens of new jutsus, specific taijutsu patterns, he'd analysed clan tactics – broken down the strengths and weaknesses of each familial attack – he'd stolen countless scrolls and scribbled the contents of countless more, passing them on ritualistically to his ANBU contact. He'd stolen into bars, bedrooms, war cabinets – in the middle of the night and the middle of the day – totally unsighted.

Yet what should have been the beginning of the more relaxing surveillance period – in many infiltration missions the first two weeks were the tensest, as some element of a presence was often picked up, no matter how good one was at hiding. After this time, the targets had usually accepted the odd presence as natural, and the real work could begin – was ruined by the fact that _still_ he was being _tracked!_

_Well, alright_, Kakashi conceded, _mostly unsighted_. There had been a notable hour last week when, bored to tears of the rigid surveillance and verging on exhausted – and, ok, more than a little field-crazy – he'd been surveying the Stone's pre-Gennin academy, the structure not unlike that of Konoha's own academy. '_The academy where Iruka teaches_.' Images flooded his mind at the thought of the Chuunin-sensei, and Kakashi quickly tried to stifle them; '_But not naked. He doesn't teach them naked…I shouldn't have thought the word 'naked'…'_

'_Definitely Field-crazy.' _

Kakashi grew more and more restless as he waited, thoughts constantly returning to Konoha, to Iruka, even to his 'eternal rival' and Team Elite, particularly to the six adorable little nin-pups he'd left behind – and one of these days he would _totally_ stop thinking of his students as puppies. _Totally_.

Eventually, Kakashi couldn't take the itch any longer, breaking his own rules _again_ to carefully form hand seals and transform into the dog-form he was beginning to favour in this terrain, before plodding down to where a group of young children were sitting on the grass, eating their lunches.

"Do you think he's dangerous, Hisoka-kun?" squealed a little blonde girl, inching closer inside the silent boy's personal space as she noticed Kakashi.

"No." As the boy answered, receiving a scowl from what Kakashi had initially assumed to be a friend, the Copy Nin felt a horrid sense of déjà vu – the sycophantic nature of the girl and the rivalrous nature of the boys too much like his own team for him to turn away now. He had thought he understood his attachment to his precious students – hadn't realised just how deeply they'd wormed their vicious little way inside his seclusion, hadn't realised until he found himself missing the fights, the fears, the stupid inane questioning and chattering and incompetence and occasional, miracle moments of _utter_ brilliance.

"Aww he's not dangerous, are ya doggy?" The second boy's bravado was another familiar sting, but he wasn't nearly as loud as the real Naruto, though Kakashi still padded over warily at the boy's call. Displacement was healthy to a ninja, Kakashi reasoned as he found himself comparing them to his students. He would deal with the repercussions when he got home – and hey, _there_ was a word he hadn't used for a decade. Home.

"Here boy! C'mere, you ugly doggy!"

"Don't call him ugly, Jomei-_baka_!" The tiny, blonde Sakura-like creature screeched, raising her fist to strike the loud little boy.

"_Sawa-chan_! Did ya have to hit so hard?" Jomei's pathetic voice sealed the deal.

Kakashi flopped down on his side as the boy began petting him, glad that he had the need to 'maintain his cover' to excuse the tension rushing out of him at the kid's rough scratching. The other kids joined in, the blonde girl tentatively rubbing his nose until he yawned in spite of himself – exposing sharp canine teeth. The quiet boy, Hisoka, held out a little of his sandwich to Kakashi, who sniffed it carefully.

"Take it, Dog. It's not dirty or anything."

"Oh, Hisoka-kun, that's so generous of you!" The little blonde girl squealed – her eyes scrunching up in a smile. "Tomorrow, I'll bring extra food for Dog!"

As Kakashi smelt the slightly musty smell of chicken – cool, but cooked – he wondered why he hadn't thought of doing this before. It might be risky, yes, but no more risky than having potentially recognisable summons dragging barely edible scraps to his remote hiding place. He wolfed the sandwich scrap down, nudging the boys hand in appreciation. Imagine that – a Stone Nin feeding the Enemy.

Oh he'd be back, alright – Kakashi would've grinned, but settled for swiping his muzzle for any remnants of the treat. He was a sucker for irony.

* * *

Asuma's eyes shot open as he was rudely awoken from his doze on his apartment floor by the sound of his window scraping open.

He called out in greeting. "If you think I'm unarmed you're an idiot!"

"Asuma?" Kurenai's voice sang across the room as she walked into it. "What are you doing down there?"

"Recovering." He grinned at her as she put her hands out to him. He used her hands to drag her down to his lap, pulling her close. "I felt sleepy, so I took a nap."

"You couldn't have walked to the bed?" Her eyebrow rose mockingly but without malice, and Asuma saw easily through the false nonchalance. _Yeah,_ he thought smugly, _she's worried about me._

He pushed at the tightly wrapped strips of canvas on her shoulder, nuzzling at the soft skin. "Scratches…" she sighed, loving the _feel_ of Asuma, the power of him. There was something in his gruff manner, some undeniable force in him that she had missed in her past lovers. Something about him was more unstoppable, more grounded in reality – he was the exact opposite of Kakashi's wraith-like fluidity, that untouchable quality that had infatuated her as a girl.

Asuma was so much warmer than anything she'd known before, as if he embodied that hot circle on the end of his ever present cigarette. No matter what she did to him, what their enemies did to him; no matter how life dragged on him, he only seemed to flare hotter. He was so bright to her – this strange, earthy man – so clear in her world of shadows and illusions. She was getting better though, stronger. A team-mate of Maito Gai, Hatake Kakashi and Saratobi Asuma could never be anything but intensely strong.

"How's chick-training going?"

Kurenai struck his shoulder lightly, making the muscle jump beautifully under her palm. "It is _not_ chick-training. And it's _awful_!"

"Really? Genma said it's going _gooood._" He ran fingertips up her thigh, emphasising the perversion of his comment. She struck him again, trying to keep a straight face at the teasing.

"You couldn't have visited me in hospital?" He ran his knuckles firmly across the length of her back, dragged his rough chin over her collar bone; knowing how the skin would rush pink, how it would make Kurenai respond in wriggling pleasure.

"Didn't want to see you weak… hurting…" Her eyes were cold and focused despite the way she pulled her legs round to straddle him, pulling his face up to meet those crimson eyes.

"Just a virus, Kurenai, I'm fine." He kneaded at her lower back, watching her lick her lips. Her fingers pulled a little at his hair.

"I don't like to see you weak. It's hard enough having to visit my students when they get themselves into _stupid_ situations…" She ducked her head, as if suddenly shy. "Have you heard about Gai-sempai?"

"Mmhm. They should at least let Neji take a peek at him, since they won't send for Kakashi." Asuma's brow creased in a low, churning sort of anger. "No-one knows a good jutsu like he does. He wouldn't put a mission before Gai's safety."

"Maybe that's why they won't send for him. Maybe what he's doing is critical." Kurenai stretched her arms out, looping them around the certain width of Asuma's neck. Her lips quirked up in amusement. "Have you seen his brats walking around with those _puppies_!"

"Oh yeah – who hasn't?" Asuma chuckled. "It's almost cute, the way Kakashi's setting them up to fail."

"They're not even real nin-dogs. Just standard summons." She carried on at Asuma's amused look. "I've been training with Inuzuka Tsume, and I asked her about it after Kiba-kun told me that Uzumaki-kun's puppy didn't have any chakra."

Asuma's rich laugh sent vibrations through her, and she saw the opening in the conversation for what it was. "She's only just returned to this level of active duty, since Kiba-kun was born. Could you imagine? Tsume was so _fierce_ and then _bam._ Parenthood." He chuckled into her neck, his obscured face giving her the courage to continue.

"Asuma…" Kurenai whispered, moving a little further back from the cocoon-like safety of their embrace. "Do you – would _you_ want children, one day?"

"One day, sure. Why?" Asuma tried to decipher the apprehension in Kurenai's eyes, grasping at straws. "You want to get in some practise? S'the best part…"

She bit back a smile, worming away as his hands feathered across the backs of her thighs. "NO! No, Asuma!"

He settled down surprisingly quickly, face stern as he pulled a rough hand to finger at her hair. She breathed in the lingering traces of smoke of his fingertips, wondering if she lingered on him quite like that richness. "Kurenai, I don't know what you're thinking… I want kids one day, I do. But there's a war coming, and…"

He sighed deeply, looking everywhere but those blood-tinted eyes, knowing he might be mere words away from crushing her very dreams. "…I look at us, at how we turned out – raised in war – and it frightens me to think we could do that to a life. What if we got lost somehow, and it turned out like Kakashi? What if we lost _it_?"

Kurenai bit her lip, relief thrumming through her as he continued to voice her own fears, her own reasoning. "We're shinobi, Kurenai. In a time of war a shinobi's life belongs to the Leaf. It's enough for me just having _you,_ and my students, but a child? We couldn't risk that yet…We're fighters, you and me…"

She broke down, then, sobbing against his neck, the sheer relief flooding her after so many weeks of secret tension. "Thank you, thank you… Anko said…" and she couldn't continue, instead letting Asuma come to his own conclusions as he slowly removed the canvas wrapping, her under-dress, his own layers. Still sobbing slightly, she allowed him to carry her to his bed, so very gentle until she began to bite at him, clinging to him as he drove her mad with relief and desire and reality.

It was a good way to end a conversation that she had thought might break her, now she just needed Kakashi to come home and fix the rest.

* * *

To say Team Gai had been shaken after their last mission was an understatement. The ease with which their enemy had taken three of – supposedly – the Leaf's most promising fighters had shocked their village into a hiss of contemplation. The Gossip Vine was indeed buzzing.

Neji hated the fact that his flaws were so clearly on display to the village, couldn't imagine the scorn he would receive from his Uncle Hiashi when he finally dared to return to the Hyuuga estate – for now, when he wasn't aimlessly wandering the hospital corridors, he joined Lee at their sensei's own apartment, under the guise of 'looking after it' until Gai had recovered.

Neji had slipped in and out of a coma for a several days before managing to overcome the concussion. Gai hadn't woken at all since the battle with the Stone nin – the blow he had received had been infused with an enormous amount of chakra. The medical staff seemed at a loss for what to do, how to cope, and Neji had overheard Lee asking why they couldn't send for the Copy Ninja, Kakashi.

Neji understood the logic of his team-mate's plan – according to their sensei, Hatake Kakashi was Konoha's foremost expert on Ninjutsu techniques – he'd apparently even been allowed to study Sandaime's notes after the late Hokage's death. Neji didn't know how much of this was true or how much credit Gai was giving his rival, but he knew enough about training in the _Gentle Fist_ style to know that once you'd figured out how to perform a move, similar moves were easy to work out. Neji was certain from Uchiha Sasuke's abilities that if there was one thing Hatake-san _knew_, it was the potential use of moulded chakra, so logically he should know what affects this jutsu had on Gai-sensei.

But they refused to send for him.

Neji tried not to think about where he was going, but his feet found their way to Tenten's private room regardless. The girl was reading on her bed – right leg cast and raised, covers tucked around her upper leg for modesty's sake. She was dressed in a standard hospital gown, nylon band secured round her wrist. Her hair was bound simply in a pony tail, and Neji realised yet again how utterly weak she looked, and hated it.

"Neji-kun," Tenten marked her page and place the thick book on the side. _Martial Arts: A Guide to Traditional Weaponry throughout the Ages. _Neji sniffed to himself, how very typical. "What are you doing here?"

"Visiting." His stern face softened a little as he hopped up onto the side of her bed. "How'd the operation go?"

"Fine, just… fine." Tenten smiled – but the bitter strain was obvious to her team-mate. "The next one will be in a few weeks, and then I have to wait six months for my body to get used to the new patella before the final operation. If all goes well I can begin training then…"

Neji tried not to stare, tried not to let her see his pity, hoping she wouldn't read it in his expressionless eyes – but – '_six months…' _

"Can they do nothing to speed up your recovery?"

"They have already – the Hokage herself performed the surgery, Sakura-chan helped with the chakra maintenance and they say she has a better understanding of chakra control than most Chuunin. I'm lucky to be in a position to hope to walk again as it is. Tsunade-sama cut the recovery time down from about two years to one."

"That's good, Tenten…" Neji couldn't look at her, though his voice was strong, his white eyes darting to the window. "That you'll recover. It took Lee a time, but he recovered…"

"_You're comparing me to -_" Tenten's voice cracked slightly, and Neji glimpsed her hand wiping away frustrated tears. "I can't do this, Neji. I can't. Do you know what the nurse _said_ to me?" Neji shook his head, lost for words as he took in the feral look of her eyes, the furious set of her jaw.

" '_Once you're all better, Ten-chan, you could think about becoming a medic!' _They want me to be a fucking _medic_, Neji, to keep me off the field!" Her bitten nails barely dug into his hand and he clung back firmly, no fear of his grip shattering this kunoichi. "When we took the Chuunin exam I _proved _myself a fighter. I haven't trained every day of my _life_ to be some simpering little rabbit safely stored behind the lines. There's a _war_ coming, Neji, that _bastard_ proved it when he took us down -"

"I know," he whispered, unable to imagine a docile Tenten, a version of Tenten that allowed some man to battle _for_ her, to _protect_ her. "I know, Tenten…"

"I want to _fight!_ It's all I've _ever _wanted!" She gasped, unable to hold back the livid tears, choking on her own anger and trapped helplessness – and with a horrid shock, Neji recognised that look, knew that he'd been there too many times before, knew that Tenten had no blonde idiot to pull her out of such consuming despair.

"You'll fight!" Neji swore, breaking his usually calm façade as he gripped both her hands – a look of pain crossing her face as he accidentally jostled the cast around her destroyed knee. "If I have to train you myself, you'll fight."

"Neji…"

Tenten yanked her hands from Neji's grip as the door slammed open – scrubbing the tears and exposed blush from her cheeks as the loud commotion filtered through the room. Lee crashed into the doorframe, panting heavily, eyes bright and impatient.

"Neji! Tenten! Gai-sensei – he's awake!"

Neji's eyes flickered to Tenten, silently questioning. She nodded in answer, voice thick when she dared to speak. "Go with Lee. Neji, go on."

The two boys paused for a moment before tearing down the hallway to their sensei. Tenten, alone again, pulled her book open as she listened to the much-abused medic-nins in the hallway, cursing as they tried to figure out how to contain those blurs of energy. She grinned to herself as she stared at the elegant craftsmanship of the Kwan Dao.

The wushu weapon would be difficult to find, and the technique hard to master – but she could double it as a staff if she absolutely had to.

Neji was right – she would fight again, if she never learned to _walk_ she would find a way to _fight_. She had a reputation to uphold, after all, and a little injury had never stopped a student of Maito Gai…

* * *

Tak and Reiko didn't much care for tracking by scent – Tak in particular worked by sight and instinct, on cold logic and cruel invention. His favourite method of tracking was finding a way to make his prey come to him. Reiko had honed her knowledge of tone and voice to the point that she could usually hear the truth in the wildest rumour – hear in the uncertainty of a delivery how old the information was.

Tak and Reiko hadn't expected, then, for the first indication of their team-mates' presence to be the sick stench of rotting corpses.

At the sight of the display – and it _was_ a display, quite the work of art – Tak froze, shocked to his bones. The two Chuunin stopped behind him, unsure what to do, where to tread – even more unsure when Reiko, spotting Koukotsu's prostrate form, ran to his gutted body with a shriek.

"What – what could have happened here?" a brunette Chuunin asked, his voice a whisper. "Hantaro-sama…?"

Tak's words took a moment to come, but his voice was clear when it did. "What do you think could've happened here?"

At the words, the two Chuunin sped along the ground, discovering the order of the action by the positions of the corpses, figuring out the possible motivation behind the attack, and searching for clues as to the killer's identity. They knew from the small smirk on their superior's face that he was analysing the scene with his eyes alone, knowing exactly what to look for to make the story run smoothly.

Finally, the Chuunin stood, the brunette's bald comrade speaking first. "Hantaro-sama, it would appear that there was no attacker. Koukotsu-san seems to have killed each of his comrades, and then himself."

"It would seem so…" Tak muttered, eyes still scanning his surroundings for anything that could give away the true attacker. Koukotsu was violent when he was angry, yes, but he'd never been suicidal – or killed a comrade while a mission was at stake. His dark eyes lingered on the strangled tracking master. At least they wouldn't have to deal with _his_ irritating obsequiousness any longer.

He considered the fingers still loosely wrapped around the tanto jutting out of Koukotsu's gut. The positioning seemed familiar somehow… incomplete…

"He wouldn't _do that!_ It doesn't make _sense_!" Reiko wailed, kneeling in the mess of her lover's blood, dry-eyed as her hands clung furiously to his shoulders. And suddenly, a piece of the puzzle fell vaguely into place. Why would Koukotsu kill a blind tracker if he had nothing to hide? Why would _anyone_ kill the tracker first?

"Wait, Reiko," Tak turned from his appraisal of the scene, head swimming with memories of silent assassins who worked by scent, and men who kept dogs as warriors. There was _one_ other clan in Konoha, aside from the Inuzuka, that fought with dogs. "Why doesn't it make sense?"

"This whole set-up, this ritual… he gave up those _stupid_ beliefs when he became ninja…"

"Ritual?"

"Koukotsu's family originally came from Grass. They were descended from the Samurai there – as are half the Grass' population." Reiko was pure shinobi, down to the bones, Tak knew - her clan one of the founding families of the Stone - and he couldn't help but smile at her spitting insult to the still active Samurai clans of Grass Country. Reiko stood, finally, ripping the tanto from her lover's stomach. It took several tugs to loose the blade.

Tak was silent for a long moment. "Alright. We're done here. Put every shinobi's name on the Lost Soldier's monument – no word of this apparent suicide gets out, or you will find yourself suffering a similar fate. Chuunin – I want you to clear up here. Suggest to the Tsuchikage that we destroy all dogs and other scavenging animals in the village as soon as possible. Please inform him that I've taken the liberty of sending Reiko off early." Tak grabbed Reiko's arm, dragging her along with him.

"Tak…" Reiko refused to give into the empty clawing in her gut. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Not until we get to Fire borders. Then you can throw up as much as you like." Tak's cold dismissal caused Reiko to examine her friend carefully, watching his brows crease anxiously, wondering how close he was to losing his mind altogether.

"When we get to the border I'm going to beat you enough to require their care, ok?" Tak squinted at her, judging and amused. How could care so little about Koukotsu's death? Their comrades' deaths? Her grip tightened on the ornate black tanto.

"Yes, Hantaro-Sempai."

"Find what information you can – do not get attached to Konoha, it's surprisingly easy to do so. Find out if there is a spy in the Stone, find out _who_."

Her eyes shot to his face again, a long scar down his cheek pinching his expression slightly. She bet her life that, if there _was_ a spy, he already knew who it was. Obediently, she replied. "Yes, Hantaro-Sempai."

Reiko pulled a tube of lipstick from her thigh holster, touching up the deep purple of her lips – knowing that nothing looked quite so gut-wrenching on an unconscious woman than lipstick smears from a strike. She hoped Konoha's Kunoichi were strong willed – she wouldn't be able to bear being trapped in a village of simpering wives and helpless medics. But then, the stronger women would be so much harder to crush, in the end.

If Tak was right, Konoha had stolen her life this afternoon. The Shinobi of the Stone were strong, unmoveable. She would do her duty. Gladly.

* * *

"It's pointless." Sasuke hissed to his team-mates as they watched their fluffy grey charges squabble hopelessly over Sushi's stick.

"You're a bastard." Naruto said, tiredly, as Kioshi bit Joben's tail, causing the latter to run in idiotic circles as he tried to discover what had caused the sudden pain. "But you're not wrong."

"What do we _do_ with them?" Sakura asked, stepping away from Sasuke as she caught the faint traces of dog piss radiating from his skin in the heat. "My mother's about ready to _skin_ Joben! He keeps getting into the drawers and…"

She blushed brightly as Sasuke raised a curious eyebrow – no matter how much she'd grown over the years she was still so weak when those intense eyes were solely on her. Of course, it was when Naruto's protective glower started to have a similar effect that Sakura realised it was merely temporary insanity bringing back her fangirl reflexes.

When no answer was forthcoming, and the ineffective growls began to rise in volume, Naruto yanked the stick away from the bickering dogs. Handing it to Sasuke, the brunette shinobi gathered a large amount of chakra in his arm before sending the stick flying. All three dogs ran haphazardly after it, barking and tripping over each other in their excitement.

Settling down on the grass – trusting they had a good half an hour before the pups thought to come back for another throw – they finally dared to open the messages from Kakashi that Iruka-sensei had delivered to Naruto. Inside each envelope was a postcard. Each one from a different part of the world – Naruto's holding an image of the famous spiralling waterfalls of Rain Country, Sasuke's showing an almost violet electrical storm from Lightening Country, and Sakura's showing the rolling hills of Grass Country. The same short message was written on each card:

_Yo! Having a great time, weather's been crazy,  
__don't forget to feed the dogs till I get back!  
K._

They each stared at the postcards, the beautiful imagery of their neighbouring lands, and considered the ambiguous message. Eventually, realising that the messages contained absolutely no significance, they started bickering.

"Kakashi that _bastard_! There's no _way_ he's been to all of these places! No _way_!" Naruto yelled at the postcard as Sakura flopped to her back on the grass.

"You moron, the images are representative." Sasuke shot back, a calm arrogance that was designed to drive Naruto crazy.

"Oh _yeah?_ What's he trying to tell us? That Sakura-chan's covered in _grass_?" Naruto's growl failed to hide his irritation, and Sasuke smirked in obvious satisfaction. Sakura threw a clump _of_ grass at Naruto, removing her leg-wraps to better soak up the mid-June sun.

"You're an idiot." Sasuke remarked, leaning back on his hands and regarding his blonde team-mate. "Sakura's picture's the most peaceful, the most consistent and stable – just like her chakra control. The waterfall in your image spirals around that central point and then crashes down wards, right? The same way that your chakra and the Kyuubi's chakra spiral and then merge when you need it to. The lightening represents my chakra because it's un-harnessed, it's raw power. It's what I spent so long looking for."

Naruto stared for a long moment, examining his postcard, tracing the spirals with a finger. Finally he turned back to Sasuke with a scowl. "…I hate you. I hate you for getting that."

Sasuke lips twitched almost imperceptibly, a sure sign of his delight, and Sakura groaned in annoyance from her sprawl in the sun. "He's making it _up_, Naruto! Kakashi-sensei wouldn't put so much thought into some stupid postcard. If there's a message, it's just to tease us about the puppies – because you just _know_ after last week's lesson that Genma-san found a way to tell."

"Hey! It wasn't my fault that Sushi pissed up his leg, alright?" Naruto yelled, bristling as Sakura growled and Sasuke turned his face skywards to mask his smile.

Naruto paused, unsure for a moment, before launching himself at Sasuke. The two of them sparred for a while in the heat – Sasuke beating Naruto as usual, loving the training, and Naruto loving how close to contact his punches came, even while just playing like this.

After a while, the puppies did come back, and Sakura petted them lazily. Seeing that her boys weren't about to stop their fighting any time soon, she launched the stick in another direction, making the pups work for their praise.

* * *

Hagane Kotetsu slouched in the hospital corridors, watching the beaten girl sleep through the glass window that exposed the intensive care ward to the rest of the world. They'd found her near the fire country border, and hearing her pleas for sanctuary had taken her to the Hokage. Her name was Reiko, apparently. Kotetsu couldn't get her battered little body out of his head.

Stone or not, shinobi or not, whatever she was – or was not – like this, here, now, she was totally helpless. It called to something within Kotetsu, some sick little boy that he'd thought he'd left behind. Her lips had held purple stains, streaks of the same shade mottled across her chin – only noticeable because it clashed with the blood. He'd bet she was _fierce._ He'd bet she was the type to touch up that violet tint in the middle of a battle, to wear that clinging black outfit even in snow country – because fuck camouflage, he'd bet this shinobi _wanted_ to be seen.

He didn't flinch as a slightly pointed chin came down to rest on his left shoulder, an obstructive tuft of rich brown hair making his cheek itch. Hands touched lightly on his arms, allowing him to remain contemplating the girl – only one person would ever dare to touch him like this. Kotetsu and Izumo had been friends since childhood. Izumo's family had been lost to the Kyuubi during that attack, and Kotetsu's father had been _changed_ by the horrors he had faced. They'd helped Umino Iruka terrorise the Academy as kids, they'd graduated together, been Gennin team-mates and passed the Chuunin exam together. They'd later become Chuunin Examiners and had been posted as Godaime's guards – together.

They held no issues about _personal space_ – maybe it was too human for most ninja, but the way they saw it, when a soldier was freezing his nuts off on a battlefield, warmth was warmth was warmth. And body heat was a form of warmth that was easy to share without giving away a location. Their connection was born out experience, out of too many harrowing moments on a battlefield, out of too often finding themselves out of their depth. Kotetsu had assumed until so recently that it was connection born of brotherhood.

"Hey," Izumo grinned into Kotetsu's shoulder, forcing a wave of guilt to roll through the spiky headed Chuunin's stomach. He couldn't not push it though – if he didn't say _something_, Izumo would know he knew.

"I wonder when she'll wake?"

"Ha. You don't have a chance, mate." The familiar teasing was a much needed comfort to Kotetsu, who leaned back slightly into the grip. He felt like his world had been turned upside down these last few weeks, since Iruka's birthday, since he proposed that _he_ be the one to stay sober for once. Stupid morals. _Look_ where _they _land him!

"You remember what my dad used to do to us, when I was a kid?"

"I remember, Kotetsu." Izumo shifted a little, tightening his grip. "The war changed people, he never meant it…"

"That's what mum would say. He would beat her, and she would love him anyway, because it was nothing compared to what he did to himself."

Izumo waited for Kotetsu to get to his point. It was possible he just needed to say the words aloud, but not likely. Kotetsu wasn't a private person by nature, but the secrets he did have ran deep. Kotetsu turned to squint awkwardly at his friend's bandana. "Sometimes it takes all manner of hell sitting on your face before you realise you're not the only one feeling the heat of it, you know?"

"I know. I know." Hands rubbed soothingly across his arms and Kotetsu felt guilty all over again. How did Izumo do it? The pretence, the constant silence? "Nice metaphor, by the way."

The _jokes_?

Kotetsu tried to keep his eyes trained on the sleeping kunoichi, tried not to focus on the deep, regular breath on his neck. Tried not to catalogue the way that Izumo breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth; like he was trying to memorise a scent. They should never have gone to Iruka's party – he never should've let Izumo get _that_ drunk…

Konoha shinobi were supposed to be gifted at gathering information. He'd never stopped to think about how good they were at concealing it as well.

x

So lost in his thoughts, Kotetsu didn't notice icy eyes slit open to stare back through the glass. Squinting through the swelling of her left eye (and _damn_, but Tak had been thorough in his administrations) Reiko watched the two men watch her, a diagonal cut on her lip reopening as her lips twisting into a smirk and she noticed the insignia of the hitae-ate. The pain made her wince, helping her cover the streak of glee at being where she had only vaguely hoped she'd be.

Reiko groaned loudly as she turned, arching her thin body to better entertain her audience.

As the brunette in the bed beside her – leg cast and chin high – welcomed Reiko to Konoha with a wry grin, she knew she had just achieved the impossible.

* * *

Several miles away, pressed flat against a rooftop, Kakashi fiddled with wires and batteries, trying to hear the secrets of the Tsuchikage's strategists. A tug on his consciousness – a sort of _wrench_ on his gut – pulled his concentration from the events below. Struggling to be aware of two things at once, Kakashi began to feel a rush a panic – a canine desperation – before the horrid feeling stopped abruptly, leaving him with an odd loss. As if a part of him had just… stopped.

Kakashi's nerves sang and tingled as the cloak of darkness became suddenly oppressive. He knew then that something had happened to one of his dogs, and prayed that it wasn't one of the pups back home.

No. No, that would be ridiculous, Kakashi told himself, idly cataloguing the phrases beneath him and realising how useless they were without a visual, even as he silently nicked a finger to summon Pakkun to the rooftop.

"What's happening?" he whispered, aware of Pakkun's link to the trained nin-dogs and how often it had helped them in battle. It only now occurred to Kakashi how little they'd tested the link between the untrained dogs, and he kicked himself for ever believing he could keep them safe as his beautifully feral pets.

"I…One of the dogs has been…slaughtered…near the main gate…" Pakkun sniffed at the air, mournful eyes slightly panicked, feeling the same dull echo of pain as Kakashi had, no doubt. "The other… can you bring him back? Bring him back!"

"Were they together?" Kakashi hissed, placing a hand on Pakkun's flat muzzle to quieten him a little. He felt the dog nod in the blanket of dark, felt his stomach drop as a second flash of colourless panic ran through him.

"Not now, it's too late. If they know to hurt to dogs they already think it's me…" Kakashi shuddered at the sudden _snap_ as his connection with his dog evaporated – they were dead now then. "Shit_, shit_…too late…"

Pakkun whined quietly on the rooftop as Kakashi crawled shakily down to the window, risking a visual.

* * *

**END OF CH 13!**

**Huge thanks to:**

ChibiRisu-Chan: Thank you so much! But yummm, psycho red-heads! I think the more I write Iruka, the more I get a handle on his character, so I'm much more comfortable giving him a lot of screen time now, since he's so inside the plot(s). You are right, of course, we are just really mean to our favourites. To make for it, maybe I could just... share out the pain? XD lol.

Alana Quinn: Thanks! Sasuke and Kioshi were probably the easiest pair to write. There was too much I wanted to say with Naruto, and Sakura just wasn't cooperating, lol. Glad you liked XD

Azamiko and Delusional Kitty: Thanks for the review and the nit-pick!XD

Hey-Diddle-Diddle: Thanks so much! You're cheering on Tak? That's such a compliment! Thanks.

Faith b: Hun, you're a nutter! Thank you so much for the novels and the encouragement! I really appreciated the comments on the OC's, I was very wary about sticking in so many new characters even though they're necessary for the next couple of chapters… As for Sasuke and Sakura, I'm not convinced she'd be able to look at Sasuke the same way after going through three years of life without him – even if she could, being 16 and being 13 are very different feelings. Sakura strikes me as someone who could grow. Hopefully there's enough references there to stay true to her character XD. (more wider? Lmao) (and you killed me with the silicon box line, lol)

Tami: Eek, Insane Neji Lovers? I fear them, will fix, scouts honour... I gave him lines as penance XD

Sorviball: Thank you so much, I'm glad the balance is working for you, and the mini-plots are not too off the wall. I don't know, I think I fell a little in love with the _world_ of Naruto, as well as the fact that they all kick-arse! XD

Nezuko: Thanks so much – I'm so glad you find the OC's interesting, when I first started considering them I was really inspired by the way you integrated Shida into _It's Nothing_ – I think I learned a lot from that. Thanks again for your support - I used to be fascinated with spy work and am glad that detail's coming through realistically for you XD  
Hope you feel better soon!

Hikaru Yuki: Thanks so much! For the kind words and the recommendations! The Kakashi/Rin scene is probably the one I'm most proud of, so far at least, so thanks a lot for you comment on that! XD

**Also to: **Telosphilos,  
Luvwiz, bluelady198, Night-Owl123, Suke-san, Kensington Gold, Fuhrer, Corycian Muse, Firedraygon, Roi du Ballet, JadeDragoness and Baka-Sensei


	14. 14

**Notes:** A few of you kind enough to review mentioned that yaoi/slash really isn't your thing, I can understand that, so I wanted to warn any of you still reading that the penultimate section is slightly more graphic than is usually implied in this fic:D

**Thanks again for reading/reviewing!**

Thanks to Shock (zomg Pimp!Gai…) for reading through the dodgy bits, sna for the music and pimp-talk, Faith b (check out her new fic _Assimilation!_) and Telosphilos, as ever

* * *

Reiko's injuries healed quickly once the hospital proved to be a far less reliable source of information than she had initially assumed it would be. Perhaps it was the company; Tenten didn't like idle gossip _or_ idle Stone Nin, so Reiko's attempts to wheedle knowledge from the girl had all concluded with a verbal slap.

Stuck in a room with a bratty little tomboy, Reiko was almost wishing she'd been stuck in a village of pathetic _wives_.

Kotetsu had visited often, though. He'd apparently volunteered to be her guide during her initial stay in Konoha – before she moved on to the invented _relatives_ in the outskirts of Fire Country. The _far _outskirts. Of course, Reiko, being an experienced spy and a sceptical shinobi, mentally rearranged a few words to find a far more satisfactory explanation of his visits.

He'd apparently _been ordered _to be her _guard _during her _entire _stay in Konoha.

_Ah well_, Reiko's inner strategist smirked at the prospect of this adorable piece of Chuunin man-flesh at her beck and call. He was _nothing_ like Koukotsu – her lover had been fierce and strong and strict and _powerful_. He'd even been brutal, occasionally, but never to her. From the way Kotetsu looked at her, his eyes lingering sadly – and maybe a little longingly – over her bruises, suggested a softness that intrigued her to no end.

Reiko didn't really want to take a lover, she didn't want to feel the touch of a man who wasn't _hers –_ but she'd sworn to Tak that she'd find a way to make the situation work.

The Stone was counting on her.

* * *

Hatake Kakashi melted into the darkness that so indulgently enclosed him. Waist deep in a river about half an hour's walk from the Hidden Village of the Stone, he worked at washing as much of the strong, musky odour from his body as possible, reflecting on his mission's new spin.

He was so unbelievably fucked.

He couldn't think. He was falling apart on his feet here, and he really couldn't see any way out. The unexpected shock of losing his wolf-hounds, his precious, feral scavengers, in such a dreadful manner had momentarily thrown him from the callous detachment he depended on. The coursing of that loss through his veins left him weak in a way he really didn't understand, and he struggled to maintain his necessary calm.

Kakashi had never lost a summons to death before, though his father had lost several during the war – Kakashi had always been so careful, so protective. The worst part of it all, though, was that the Copy Nin would never see their remains. He had to trust that they'd been dumped or disposed of, before their corpses could disintegrate from the physical world – he had to trust that no one had witness that telling evaporation.

It was strange, Kakashi thought, how such a small thing as a death could change a perspective so completely. He'd been appalled before, at his own detailed massacre of the Stone team. He hadn't enjoyed staging such a scene – but he couldn't risk leaving tracks or indication of himself, and so had been forced to be brutal and precise – using weaponry and sheer force to kill his prey, rather than the jutsus that would have made life so much easier. Now though, he was infinitely glad that he'd taken out that tracker, Hanamaru – that blind _bastard _who'd alerted Tak to his dogs' presence. He'd watched emotionlessly as the middle-aged man twitched sporadically before finally dying, but the memory was now filled with a malicious satisfaction. A sickness that Kakashi couldn't really help but taste fondly.

Kakashi scrubbed at his body mindlessly, finding himself fighting a strange, frustrated itching in his eyes as he scoured grotty, dust-darkened skin first pale, then pink under his administrations. The moon's light was pitiful, far too dull to see by, and Kakashi let his guard drop minutely as he considered his new game plan.

The group assassination had turned out a pointless exercise, in the end. Had it been anyone but Hantaro Tak to examine the scene Kakashi was certain he'd have gotten away with it. It was only now that he realised how imprecisely he'd recalled Tak's fluid ruthlessness. He'd somehow never thought the man would realise Kakashi's pack consisted of more than Pakkun's snide little self. He somehow never thought Tak would have known just how to exploit that weakness.

If he'd just somehow found the courage to kill Tak first – no other shinobi of the Stone would've made the connection, no other ninja would have ordered the death of so many innocent creatures. He was almost glad that the puppies he'd left in Konoha couldn't hold the same connection as Pakkun and the grown dogs yet – their reactions to their sire's death would no doubt be more than the kids could handle. Kakashi just hoped they were remembering to feed the dogs!

_His _food supply was now fucked, of course. Kakashi would have to somehow find a way to scavenge for himself – an incredibly dangerous and amateur move if the Stone nin were on high alert, but it was better than starting a campfire and hoping the guards on the watchtowers were blind to the smoke.

It was all so poorly _timed._ On any other mission this would have been the point of retreat, and Kakashi's many years of experience all screamed just how deeply in over his head he was now. It was just such a _waste_ this time round – Kakashi had gathered so much information, so much of the lives of these nin over the last month. He'd watched these excellent strategists work day in, day out on a defensive jutsu that, used correctly, could crush the Leaf's offensive. He _needed _to copy that justu; he needed to at least find the _plans_ to recreate it from. Without that jutsu, his time here would be pointless.

But sweet fuck, if they _knew_ it was _him_…

Kakashi dunked his head under the cold water until the pressure grew too much, gasping for breath as he came up, head slightly clearer, calmer. He was an elite tool of Konoha, an assassin of the Leaf. For a shinobi of Konoha, there was always something; it wasn't like he'd never been this deep in before – it wasn't like this was the hardest thing Kakashi had ever faced.

If the Stone were expecting him, it would just make it that much more interesting.

* * *

"…and Nayami-chan let them all go!" Iruka spun, throwing a series of hits at his friend's torso. "It was beautiful, like back in the day!"

"But hasn't the other girl got the spinny-chakra-thing?" Izumo asked, blocking Iruka's final punch and twisting, keeping Iruka in his grip as he swung the katana fiercely at his friend's neck.

"Hanabi?" Iruka grunted as he bent into a crab to avoid the blade, the movement forcing Izumo to release his fist. "Yeah, but it's not strong enough to be of much use, or be consistent. She hasn't got half the skill of Neji, whatever the family say."

Iruka kicked out as he moved into a flip and Izumo sprung away from the attack, allowing Iruka momentum to regain his balance in favour of keeping his own. His friend's katana was still on his side of the room, though, he just needed to keep Iruka weaponless…

They crouched slightly, considering each other; Iruka's eyes flitted towards his lost sword. "You should've seen it – the balloons hit her right in the back of the head, paint everywhere. Teach her to pull her comrade's pigtails."

"Heh, Sounds like Hanabi's got a cruusshhh." Izumo returned the bright grin, shuffling in short steps to place his body more securely between Iruka and the katana. "The teachers won't be happy with the prank, surely?"

"She was bullying Nayami and driving me mad with the _Fate-Will-Make-You-Suffer _spiel. This way, Nayami could get her own back, and Hanabi would learn a valuable lesson on letting _Fate_ rule your estimation of an enemy." Iruka's voice was curt – that much feared Caring Teacher Voice. Izumo's grin widened.

"And the Hyuuga Clan?"

Iruka made some derisive noise before smirking, eyes fixed on Izumo's footwork as the man shifted. "Let them say what they like. Bloodline limit or not - when they can deal with a truck-load of squalling pre-Gennin, they can tell me how to teach."

"You and your Hyuuga-angst!" Izumo crouched, recognising Iruka's stance. "Just be thankful you only had to teach one Uchiha!"

As Iruka leapt to the right – away from his fallen sword – Izumo hurried to correct his defence, realising too late he'd fallen for a simple bluff. He managed to eventually counter the movement, but they were both panting as conversation moved on to Kotetsu.

"Don't bait me with that, Iruka." Izumo growled, scraping sweat-damp hair from his face as he shifted again. Izumo looked younger, Iruka thought, with his expressive face so clearly on display. "He's been set to _guard _Reiko; and heaven forbid that he speak to his friends while on precious duty!" His back tensed, and Iruka – inching slowly forward – almost missed the rest of his muttered sentence. "We should have let the bitch bleed out, out there."

Iruka straightened, momentarily shocked by the bitter cadence of his friend's voice. He had it _bad._ "What if I have a chat with her? If she's taking him for a ride we'll know."

"You'd do that?" Izumo relaxed at Iruka's nod. If anyone could wheedle the truth out of a ninja it was Iruka. "I just don't _trust_ her, you know?"

"If it's any consolation," Iruka paused to dart past Izumo, dropping into a roll to dodge the other nin's attack, the sound _thwack_ of metal hitting the concrete floor as Iruka grabbed for his katana. They paused again as Iruka straightened. "Kotetsu's the only idiot that _does_."

Izumo's face split into a bitter grin, and they lost themselves to the fight, exchanging furious blows – stopping now and then to re-enact a particular move, to get it down right, make it easy and effective. Eventually, Iruka managed to pin Izumo's sword hand to a wall, his own blade scratching close to the other chuunin's neck.

"This is the part where I make some stupid pun." Iruka smirked, breathing heavily. Something twisted in Izumo's expression, some mischievous knowing.

"You really _are_ banging a Jounin, aren't you?" Izumo grinned at Iruka startled protest, not convinced despite the Academy Sensei's relaxed expression. Iruka placed their training katana back in their places on the training room's wall, well practised at ignoring Izumo's sing-song speculation.

"Well, you've never beaten me so easily before – all that extra _training _would have certainly paid off… and if you listen to the _rumours_…"

"Iruka-Sensei! Izumo-san!" Both Chuunin paused in their bickering to see Maito Gai posing grandly in the doorway, Lee and Neji standing stiffly by his side. "I would like to use this training hall, if you are both finished with your own training?"

"Of course, Gai-san." Iruka answered politely, trying to hide the perpetual amusement that came when dealing with the melodramatic Jounin master. "We'd just finished, actually."

"Ah, the Vigour of Youth!" Gai exclaimed, gesturing to his students to take their positions and begin sparring, wanting to train himself but loathe to do so until they'd figured out just how much damage he'd sustained from the ambush.

Gai listened to the chattering Chuunin as they left the building, smiled to himself as he heard them say something about rumours involving Iruka-sensei. A surprised "_It's not **Gai,** is it?" _evoked a burst of laughter from Iruka that caused a sting of jealousy in Gai.

He could never seem to find it in him to laugh so freely, at least while sober – hadn't even as a child. His Rival had never laughed like that at all, not once in Gai's recollection. He couldn't imagine Ibiki laughing like that – perhaps Genma could have, once. Or Kurenai, though she'd been a solemn child.

There were only four years between he and Iruka, Gai'd only started _really _fighting at the end of the war – those final, horrific weeks that had still managed to sink into his skin in a way that scolded him. How could four years and too much determination cause such stark differences between their social groups?

Gai's friends had all had laughter stolen from their lips, replaced by strict, barking orders and the lingering burn of chakra from countless killing jutsus. They teased each other – but often cruelly – not knowing like others how and when a joke became too much. Such was war, he supposed, but it didn't seem fair to Gai that he would never be so free of the demons of his generation.

"Gai-Sensei!" Neji groaned slightly as Lee saluted his teacher. "If I can't beat Neji-san, I will train with these weapons until I can!"

Maito Gai grinned at his students – the calm confidence of Hyuuga Neji and the desperate determination of Rock Lee and thought that no, his generation would never be _free_ – but maybe that entrapment helped their students attain freedom.

If Neji was a bird, in a cage without a key, then Gai would teach him how to break it.

* * *

Tak stood serenely before the Tsuchikage, waiting his turn to report. The shinobi around him scoffed and scorned and shrank back slightly – in fear of this deadly lunatic, but so very grateful that he was on their side.

"Go on, boy. You've got news?" The Tsuchikage's voice was fond – the only man to have not lost patience with this nin, who so often went over the top to _get the job done,_ a habit he'd seemed to pick up in his twentieth year, upon his return to Stone from the Leaf. It wasn't an issue though, not to the Tsuchikage. It wouldn't become an issue until the day one of Tak's missions failed.

"I believe I know the spy's identity."

"Tak!" The reproach was mild, but the tone held much warning. "Until you find us _proof_ of this so called _spy_ – who is so conveniently skilled that they must be tracked by scent…"

The elite Jounin raked messy hair from his face in irritation. "Your own tracking master was closing in. He -"

"No, Takeshi." The Tsuchikage growled, his old face wrinkling up in some hesitant emotion. Tak sighed noisily at the pointed use of his given name. The Tsuchikage continued, voice grave. "Hanamaru had become obsessed. He was a broken man. You are swiftly joining him. So I will say this: _There is no spy in Stone_."

A muttering ran through the room, several arrogant scoffs of agreement, several shocked protests. The room seemed divided, Tak seemed outraged.

"But - "

"Kotaru-san!" A heavily built man – large samurai sword strapped to his belt – stepped forward from the crowd of elite as the Tsuchikage addressed him. "Is my defence ready yet?"

"Yes, Tsuchikage-sama. We're just awaiting your inspection."

"Tomorrow then. You're all dismissed." The elite bowed respectfully as they left, sparing openly curious glances toward their comrade as the Tsuchikage continued. "Hantaro Tak, wait a while."

There was total silence in the Kage's office, apart from the odd echoes of the shinobi's deliberate footfall. Eventually Tak was beckoned closer to the old man.

"There is no spy in Stone." The Tsuchikage stood abruptly, easy manner replaced with a stern calculation. "And until you can prove otherwise, you _will_ stop this nonsense, my Shinobi."

"Yes, Tsuchikage-sama." Tak bowed stiffly, his jaw and back horribly tense; and from the window ledge, chakra masked and presence hidden, Kakashi allowed himself a satisfied grin. For a shinobi with a little patience, there was _always _something to work with.

Kakashi just happened to be an opportunistic son of a bitch.

* * *

The report fell on Morino Ibiki's desk with a hollow slap, but he hesitated before acknowledging it. The Jounin messenger dared to tap a foot impatiently; drumming over-confident fingers across the manila folder.

Ibiki glared up at Genma, challenging the other shinobi to keep the self assured smirk in place. Finding himself unable to stare out his comrade, Ibiki sighed and slid the folder closer. "I liked it better when you were scared of me." Ibiki paused before muttering loudly, playing up to the timid audience of his subordinates. "You egocentric little shit."

Genma's smirk broke into a grin, senbon twitching between straight teeth. "Win some, lose some. It's your own fault, you know. You ruined the fearsome thing when you were _nice._" A snort came from a dark-haired Chuunin rifling through a filing cabinet behind Genma.

"I'm _never_ nice." Ibiki growled, opening the folder with a violent gesture. Genma turned to see the Chuunin – Hijiri Shimon – leaning close to the files to smother a grin.

The interrogation expert's eyebrow rose slightly as he read the mission brief – the action tugging at his deep scars in a way that made his jowls twitch.

"Sign. Date. Gimme." Genma instructed, smirking again, trying not to let his shock show as Ibiki wordlessly obeyed. "Thank you, Morino-san."

"Sure." Ibiki went back to his work, his sudden ignorance of Genma indicating it was time to leave. As Genma moved towards the door, Shimon intercepted him as subtly as possible.

"Yo," Genma chirped, chewing amusedly on his senbon. "How's Yuugao-chan?"

Shimon flushed a stunning pink, but kept grinning. "She's – we're good, thank you, Shiranui-san."

Genma waited, smiling slyly as Shimon willed his face to cool. "I thought you'd like to know that we're all impressed." He gestured towards Ibiki's subordinates – the paper pushing interrogation experts and trainees that were peering round the office's partitions and glass panels. "We never figured you'd have the guts to order him around!"

Genma was a little surprised to realise how many of the interrogation team he recognised as ANBU operatives – he'd been told that many shinobi doubled up where possible, to avoid the imminent insanity that came very quickly with full time ANBU work, but he'd never imagined that so many of the supposedly bumbling Chuunin were so uniquely capable.

"You know…" Genma raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. "Me either. It's amazing how hard it is to be afraid of someone who you've played strip limbo with."

Shimon didn't laugh – but only because he was obviously biting the inside of his cheek to keep from doing so. Genma glanced over his shoulder to see Ibiki glaring at the chatting ninja. He waved at the scarred Jounin before leaving the room, endlessly amused by the muffled snort from behind him.

* * *

_This is it_, Kakashi thought as he watched the Stone nin build their immense block of chakra-imbued rock. He could see howweapons could protrude from all sides of the block, the shinobi in the centre maintaining and perfecting the untouchable inner walls – _so that's where they power the technique from _– Shinobi attacked the structure from all sides, powerful jutsus, but not a one touched the structure. _What would chidori do?_

Kakashi's thoughts raced as he tried to analyse the defence, his Sharingan dissecting the pathways and nuances of the technique in ways that made his head ache to think about. Suddenly, with a small pop of chakra, the structure vanished. _Oh fuck me, _Kakashi remembered details of the type of chakra being used – if it was fed enough, powerful enough, it became untraceable, invisible... _so that's their secret; that's how they'll attack the Leaf. _

Kakashi's eyes narrowed as he heard the _crunch _of sandals on rock directly behind him.

He hadn't realised the guard had got quite so close but – Kakashi took in the scene around him, listening to his discoverer's light breathing andsilently judging how close any other presence was – it didn't matter now. He just needed a few more seconds for the Sharingan to finish its deadly spin and his mission would be over. Five weeks, three days and too many minutes – Kakashi was more than ready to go _home._

Eventually, the guard grew impatient. "What do you think you're doing down there, shinobi-san?"

"Collecting your secrets, shinobi of the Stone." He rose from his crouch, making a quick hand seal and standing to his full height - subtly stretching his back a little before turning to face the enemy. Fearful eyes widened comically as the guard took in the spinning Sharingan.

Kakashi grinned, relaxed as he casually tugged down his hitae-ate. _Time to leave._

"Best make sure that stays quiet, hmm?" The guard didn't have time to react as Kakashi's clone put a knife in his neck. Kakashi gathered the corpse up in his arms – for the first time in five weeks not worried about the blood on his clothing – and transported as far outside the village as he dared before making his way to the ANBU's meeting spot.

x

Kakashi entered Konoha the same way he had left it – silently, secretly.

On the 1st of July, Tsunade was informed of his arrival by the ANBU escort – who'd somehow managed to lose the Copy Nin as they neared the Leaf's gates. Apparently, a month in secrecy had honed his skills well. When Kakashi eventually slipped in the Hokage's window – his feet stumbling slightly after the three day run from Stone – Tsunade had been more than a little surprised at the easy dishevelment and tense glow of the shinobi as he'd greeted her and Jiraiya.

"We expected you to come straight here." Tsunade's voice was stern, but amused.

"Yeah, sorry. I had to check on the pups." Kakashi scratched at his head, the gesture far less staged than normal.

"How'd it go, brat?" Jiraiya spoke up quietly, strangely subdued. His nose wrinkled up a little as he neared the Copy Nin. "You smell like…"

"I lost two dogs." The flat monotone brought a rush of memory to the Sannin – standing there, watching the Hatake's jaw tense as he let the blank statement do the talking for him. _I've lost two of my dogs and I don't know what to do about it._

Sakumo had been the same, in the war. Tsunade watched quietly,her relief at his return dissipating rapidly,as Jiraiya awkwardly clasped Kakashi's shoulder in one large hand.

Sakumo had been the same; weather beaten and smelling of sweat and dogs and summer-heat and grass and _fuck_ but did seeing this arrogant little boy – all grown up and ready for nothing – slouching there, _daring_ to look so very much like his bastard of a father, bring back a shit load of memories that Tsunade just did not _need_ at this point, while her village fell into crisis!

Once, Sakumo had told her that he lived to put the village before his own life. Some fucking hero _he'd_ turned out to be.

"You mentioned an attempt by Stone to infiltrate Konoha." Tsunade found herself speaking through gritted teeth, locking gazes with Kakashi's confused eye.

He turned his face towards the window, ruddy orange light from a streetlamp putting him in profile as he looked away, the slight hint of stubble poking through his mask and filling Tsunade's senses with _Sakumo_.

_So very much like his father, _she thought, hating herself for the rush of betrayed anger, _no matter what Jiraiya says now…_

Tsunade pulled a photograph from a pile, holding it out to Kakashi, who took it with a harassed sigh.

"Is this the girl?"

"That's Reiko." Kakashi's voice was oddly clipped, professional, much unlike his usual drawl. "Elite Jounin, served under Hantaro Tak, lover of a close combat specialist named Koukotsu, deceased; if that's any use?"

Tsunade gave him a calculating look, astounded that he'd know so many details, searching for smugness. Sakumo would've been smug. "You weren't asked to get inside their pockets, Hatake."

"True, Hokage-sama. But she was an easily accessible source of information."

"She acted as a contact?" Tsunade kept her voice calm – wary of having to change her assessment of the girl so close to her judgement.

"_No_." There was an odd stress to Kakashi's voice, some mocking tone. "But she was overconfident of her team-mates' abilities and didn't know when to shut-up."

"Did you find anything _useful?_" Tsunade couldn't help the impatient rush of words, she felt out of her depth with the brat – _over worked,_ she thought to herself, _You just need a little sleep_ – a feeling that wasn't helped by his respectful responses and obvious deference to her experience.

"You have received my notes and the scrolls I managed to gain; I had hoped they would be of some use to you." Kakashi's voice grew quiet, his exposed eye darting between her and Jiraiya's thoughtful glower. "I collected twenty six original ninjutsus, and several adaptations of existing jutsus; including the incomplete technique which I believe was used to injure Maito Gai."

"Congratulations." Her voice was endlessly sarcastic. "But how does this help the Leaf, shinobi?"

"I copied a Ninjutsu technique that was specifically designed to attack the Leaf." Kakashi snapped, having reached the end of his patience. Tsunade couldn't remember him speaking to anyone this way, wondered if he'd ever lectured Sandaime, wondered if he'd ever needed to – she knew the Professor had held Kakashi in high esteem. "We should examine it for flaws immediately, though I could find no obvious ones."

"And you're capable of reproducing this technique in your current _state_?" She smirked slightly as Kakashi cast his eyes down, considering how best to respond to the obvious insult.

"I would prefer to rest first." The Copy Nin slouched a little more pointedly, obviously nearing the limit of his straightforward cooperation. "To ensure its accuracy…"

"Report to me directly, once you feel capable of reproducing the technique," Tsunade commanded. "You may leave."

Jiraiya strode quickly across the room, leading Kakashi out of the door and putting a key into his hand. When Kakashi was gone, the Sannin turned on her.

"Do you treat all your shinobi with such inspiring _respect_?" Jiraiya sneered, narrow eyes intent with barely constrained fury. "He's been gone for five weeks, Tsunade!"

"He's fine." The Hokage tossed a pig-tail over her shoulder, raising her chin defiantly against the man's accusing tone.

"He's _fucked_. He's _tired_. And _you're_ supposed to be the reason he fights! Neither one of us expected him to come back _alive_, Tsunade!" Jiraiya leant over her desk, the wooden surface seeming far too narrow suddenly as his face loomed above her own. "How could you _speak_ toyour shinobithat way?"

Tsunade opened her mouth to retort, but couldn't think of a good enough answer. She knew exactly why she addressed Kakashi in such a manner, knew why she couldn't hold a fondness for the shinobi that her peers had always seemed to. She'd idolised Sakumo, as a girl; _his_ brilliance had been considerate and focused. He'd been human, like Jiraiya, but with all Orochimaru's competent genius; and he'd never once fallen down – until the end.

And now, every time Kakashi returned from a mission, bruised and a little more broken, all Tsunade could see was him falling into Sakumo's madness. And every time he fell shy of perfection, each time Kakashi didn't mourn for the targets he slaughtered in her name, all Tsunade could see was him failing to live up to Sakumo's bright standards.

Most of the time she could forget all this, see Kakashi for his own merits and flaws. Sometimes, though, she just felt like a teenager again, trapped in her own youth, and grief and horror, repeating the same mistakes over and over again.

But how could she tell Jiraiya that his student's student made an _excellent_ scapegoat?

"Sakumo-kun couldn't have kept hidden for so long." Tsunade's voice was thoughtful, and Jiraiya suddenly understood. "He could never have maintained such coldness."

"Kakashi is not his father." The old shinobi grimaced. "It's time you realised that."

* * *

"_Fuck_, Control?" The ANBU's deceptively calm voice crackled through Shikamaru's speakers. "He's _right_ up my arse!"

"Stand by shinobi." Nara Shikamaru reached for the nearest map, catching the eye of the Blind Operation's commanding officer, the ANBU Boar, as he tapped the new details into the computer before him, leant into the desk-mic. "Position Compromised; Badger."

"Badger's got the package?" the Boar confirmed, referring to the information the ANBU team had been sent to attain from the Stone's temporary encampment. According to the Hokage, they'd been hoarding information there for a week – and judging by the horror unfolding on the other end of Shikamaru's headphones, the enemy wasn't keen on giving that intelligence back to the Leaf. "Right. Cat should be closest – locate the Badger, cause a distraction."

"Cat's at 33/68," a control operative shouted the ANBU's location across the room. Shikamaru ran a finger across his map, brow crinkling with concentration.

"Badger, if you're where I think you are your distraction should be coming into your east side any second now." The Chuunin chattered into his mic, earning an interested glance from the ANBU Boar – at least, he assumed it was interested; it was hard to decipher the expressions behind those fearsome masks. "Let me know…"

"Position Compromised; Wolf."

Shikamaru tried to ignore the desperate call from the booth to his left, the last month's training leaving him familiar to the sympathetic shock of fear in his gut each time those words were spoken. Positioned compromised – the control room's code for _they're screwed._

"Control? I have a problem…" the crackling in Shikamaru's ear had him tapping desperately at the keypad on his small desk. Last time he'd checked the Wolf and the Badger had been running parallel - "That distraction isn't gonna work…"

"Target Compromised!" Shikamaru shouted – actually shouted – the irrepressible sympathetic panic making his mind race as he heard his contact's laboured panting. "Get that Wolf away from my shinobi!"

The ANBU control operatives glared for a moment, before the Boar – through his obvious shock – began to bark orders along a similar vein. The control room was a flurry of movement and commands, all of them seeming to realise the necessity of getting this intelligence – whatever it was – home.

Shikamaru's ears burned with a sharp cry and suddenly his head phones fell into the irritating hiss of white noise. That could only mean one thing, he looked around for confirmation, but his comrades were too intent on getting their own contact out of the Stone's furious defence.

"Badger down," Shikamaru flipped a switch, sent the call to the control desks. "Need a visual." For almost a minute – an eternal minute – there was simple silence roaring in Shikamaru's ears.

"Confirmed Visual." The Boar said from behind Shikamaru, voice apologetic. "Your part's over, Nara-san. Go on."

Shikamaru took a few deep breaths before leaving the control room – the memory of that empty hiss more potent than the blood-thick scream seconds that preceded it – already returning to its desperate flurry as the ANBU rallied to protect whoever had taken the package from the Badger

"Yo, Shikamaru!" Asuma was slouching against the wall of the ANBU Headquarters – taking deep drags of another cigarette. Shikamaru felt his mouth twitch up at the sides a little, but couldn't quite force the words from his throat. His sensei filled the silence easily. "You can't blame yourself for his death."

Eyes widened – Shikamaru hadn't expected _that_ move – as he managed to get a grip on his rebellious vocal chords. "H- How did you - ?"

"I used to control on Blind Ops a lot, back when a friend was in ANBU." Asuma smirked, almost smiling but thinking better of it. "They try and pair the guys up with shinobi they can respond quickly to. We used to go by the rule that if your contact terminates, you leave the control room. That _is_ why you're out so early, right?"

Shikamaru nodded mutely, feeling Asuma's eyes boring down onto him, into him. "You know," the Jounin started, grinding his cigarette under his heel as he pushed off from the wall, throwing an arm around Shikamaru's shoulders as they began to leave the compound. "Kakashi can instantly reproduce any Ninjutsu you use in front of him; Kurenai-chan can make you believe you're walking on water, while you fall off a cliff; Gai can walk out of a three day fight and keep training for three days more…"

Asuma casually pulled Shikamaru closer as they walked, letting the teenager's head loll against his broad shoulder. "…but even they can't predict the weather."

They walked on in silence, Shikamaru pondering Asuma's words and – though he knew the man was right and meant well – finding no comfort in them. Eventually they reached the Nara's home, Shikamaru's mother peeking nosily out of the kitchen window and, seeing her son, scurried to open the door.

"Asuma-sensei?" Shikamaru mumbled, hating how illogical his grief seemed. "I don't think I'm cut out to help people take such risks."

For long moment Asuma just looked at him. He fished around in his jacket for a cigarette, glancing up at the clear, unspoiled sky, squinting in the sunlight as he lit up between cupped hands. Shikamaru's mother started calling him in impatiently from the door. Eventually, Asuma shrugged, Shikamaru recognising the prelude to the man's odd, off-colour humour.

"Looks like rain, don't you think?"

* * *

It was the middle of the night and why, but _why_ did he have to be so damn accessible. _Come by my place, any time... I'm always available if you need extra tuition… Please Hokage-sama, if you can't find anyone to work a shift…_

The problem, Iruka decided, with getting used to another man in your bed – and a certain thistle headed idiot of a Jounin had developed a penchant for turning up most mornings lately – was that when they went on long, dangerous, classified, solo missions that you weren't allowed to know anything about you tended to find sleeping without their insistent weight (and sprawling limps and bony elbows and breathless nightmares and sleep-sweaty morning scent) surprisingly difficult.

So Iruka, upon hearing that ceaseless, irritating knocking on his front door, really wasn't all that up to entertaining in the middle of the bloody night. Alright, Iruka conceded, checking his alarm, so it was only 11pm – but still, you know? He'd had a rough few weeks!

Iruka ripped open the door – jaw clenched, legs astride, fiercest scowl in place – to find a skinny, scruffy, slightly damp Kakashi slumped against the frame.

Unable to resist, Kakashi pulled his mask down, leaning in, intent on lapping that pout from Iruka's face, and didn't protest when he was tugged inside the house.

"Hey," Iruka said against his jaw, breathing deeply. "When'd you get back?"

"Not long ago – had to debrief, and er...beg for a little rest before the practical demonstration."

"Doesn't sound fun…" Iruka hands ran across him, through him; Kakashi closed his eyes and just_let_ himself be led. Iruka tried to catalogue everything; every change. Kakashi was thinner than before, fatigue stole his graceful slink. His hair was longer, almost flat on his head where water had made it heavy; it fell to the smooth hollow of his cheeks on one side, and felt slightly greasy despite how recently it had obviously been washed. His bottom lip was a little raw from where he'd chewed it in thought. A stupid habit, which nobody ever seemed to notice. Iruka wondered if anybody _knew, _besides him. He was pale as well, sickly even, with tired bags beneath his eyes.

But he was here, he was standing (albeit shakily), he was so very, deliciously responsive…

Iruka rewarded him with another nuzzle, lips dancing across his smooth cheek and jaw. "You're very clean. You smell all soapy."

"Mmm, spent a month sleeping with dogs, been running like a moron for the last three days…" Kakashi let his head drop, a heavy weight on Iruka's shoulder. "Y'would've kicked me out on the streets smelling like I did."

"Wouldn't count on it." Iruka muttered, so profoundly desperate, now this man was home, to get him in his bed. It had only been a month or so, but it had been a long month, a critical one. Konoha was crumbling, and Iruka wasn't sure if it was because of Kakashi's absence or in spite of it. He pressed himself against the Copy Nin, receiving a breathless sort of sigh at the level of contact. "Missed you…"

Sluggish fingers threaded through Iruka's hair in answer. "Can we move? Don't think I can keep standing for long…"

Iruka led him to the couch, leaning on the floor between the other man's knees. "Better?" Iruka grinned as he gently removed sodden – slightly brown – wraps from Kakashi's calves. His loose trouser leg hung over them scruffily. "Did you shower in these?"

Kakashi made some noise of assent as he slumped further into the comfortable cushions, mumbling a little. His eyes closed at the gentle administrations, wriggling his toes as Iruka rubbed his aching foot, warming the cold limbs. "Didn't wanna take off everything at Jiji's…"

"Jiji? Jiraiya?" Iruka asked, hands moving slowly up Kakashi's legs, working the tense muscles as he watched the Copy Nin's breathing even out.

"Yeah… He taught my Sensei…" The breathy, half conscious comment made Iruka smile deviously as he slipped the loose trousers –_ Far too loose, even with the weight-loss. Jiraiya's? – _from Kakashi's thin waist. Mismatched eyes opened slightly, when Kakashi caught himself automatically helping someone undress him. Iruka smiled warmly at that tiny, trusting slip.

"It alright, it's just me. Your muscles are tense from running so long." Iruka could remember many times when he'd just crashed out after a gruelling mission only to be woken by Cramp of Death – and Kakashi's agony wasn't something he wanted to witness on the man's first night back. "Let me help."

Kakashi's eyes closed again, his breathing evened out, Iruka hands travelled further up the other man's thighs. When the muscles had relaxed Iruka let his hands continue travelling – past the hem of the shirt, over the smooth planes of his stomach, loving the little hitches in breath that came every now and again. He tugged that shirt off gently - Kakashi hindering more than helping in his sleepy desire - the pretty dampness from the Copy Nin's recent shower still clinging to too-pale skin and drawing Iruka's patiently hungry eyes.

Iruka continued to tease so very gently, dipping his head down to swipe at that lingering condensation, to mouth nonsense words against a naked thigh. Kakashi's right leg dragged slowly up Iruka's side, opening up for him, inviting him. Iruka ran a hand back down to strip Kakashi fully, to aid his mouth in teasing a little more purposefully, sick now of waiting, that hunger no longer quite so patient…

For a second time that night, Iruka was interrupted by a persistent knocking on his door. He hesitated for a second, debating…

"Oh god, please – please just ignore it – you have curtains…" Kakashi's needy whine shocked Iruka into moving as a hand threaded desperately through his hair. _Fuck it, _he thought, _we need this…_

"IRUKA-SENSEEIII!" Naruto's scream surprised Iruka into propriety, breaking contact with Kakashi as he stood; the sudden loss of skin dragging out the most endearingly wanton whimper the Chuunin had ever heard in his life. _Gotta make him repeat that._

"Don't move; I'll get rid of him." Iruka took a final, greedy look at the form on his couch before he could bring himself to pull away.

"S'a ninja village, Iruka…" Kakashi's heavy eyes finally cracked open, all that intensity projected from the bleary focus of those mismatched slits. The tiny speck of logic Iruka could still retain protested that there was no way Kakashi could actually _see_ with his eyes so closed and dilated. The rest of his thoughts just mindlessly appreciated the view.

Kakashi's mouth formed a mischievous grin as he continued. "…So I wouldn't worry about hiding the body."

* * *

"Reiko of the Stone."

Tsunade's voice was calm, cold. She sat behind her desk, surveying her kingdom. An ANBU Guard stood behind each of her shoulders, framing her delicate features with their power. The Sannin, Jiraiya, leant against the doorframe, while a dark-haired female mirrored his stance by the window opposite. Two Chuunin stood at each of Reiko's shoulders, and while she could no doubt take them easily, she'd never make it to the exits. She had no escape.

"We have come to recognise you as a competent and most efficient kunoichi."

Reiko bowed politely as she answered, her head spinning, her inner strategist climbing metaphorical walls as she found herself lost and outdone. "Thank you, Hokage-sama. Your hospitality has been very kind."

Tsunade smirked – a small twist of the lips. Hospitality indeed. She hadn't had her people stop trailing Reiko since the girl had regained consciousness. She leant forward on the table, and Reiko heard a slight snort from the shinobi in the room. "It is with great regret then, that we bring you here today. Choose your answer wisely shinobi."

She held out a piece of parchment, and the Chuunin on her right – bushy pony tail high on his head, she remembered him from the bar of only a few nights ago, though his name escaped her – handed the paper to Reiko. The words '_Fox in the coop. Stones lie in Earth'_ were written in a rushed and untidy scrawl.

"I don't… I don't understand… I explained my situation…" Reiko knew it was over. She thought of the drugged senbon in her arm wraps, hoped that she'd have the time to use it before they started torturing her for information regarding her Village.

"Yes, you did. Unfortunately, we are aware that you were lying. You answered well, but not wisely." Tsunade paused, gestured to the Chuunin on her left, who she recognised as Kotetsu's friend. She'd miss the spiky haired idiot. Tak was right about a person getting attached to this village.

In spite of Reiko's affectedly calm posture, the Hokage was continuing. "The punishment for illegally infiltrating the defence of a Hidden Village is death."

"Sure. You're not gonna torture me first?"

Tsunade smirked at the girl before her, that last grasp at bravado was convincing, she'd give the girl that much. "Before I have you killed, Reiko-chan, I'm going to share with you a little secret. For over a month, one of my Jounin was observing your village. We've been monitoring you for _weeks_."

Tsunade leant back in her chair while the silence grew, reclining, utterly relaxed. "If your village wants war so very badly, Shinobi-san," Tsunade grinned, glancing at each of her comrades in the room. "It will have war."

Tsunade nodded sharply and before Reiko's face could even begin to express her shock from the new information, Izumo snapped her neck from behind.

x

"Thank you, Izumo-san." Tsunade turned to Jiraiya. "You said Hatake requested the Tanto?"

Jiraiya nodded, chewing on his answer. "Hmm. Something about that last scroll you needed belonging to the girl's superior? Should be fine."

"If you think so?" A significant look passed between the two Sannin before Jiraiya nodded again. Tsunade continued, fierce eyes not leaving Jiraiya's. "Iruka, please deliver the tanto and mission briefing to Hatake-san as soon as possible. Shizune will give you the briefing now."

"Godaime-sama." Both Shizune and Iruka moved immediately, picking the black sheathed knife from Reiko's corpse and leaving the room quickly. Izumo stood nervously, facing the Sannin and the ANBU guards – why did he always seem to be the one out of his depth?

"Izumo," As Tsunade fixed her eyes on him, he tried to swallow a slight whimper. "Do you understand the process we have for Jounin promotion?"

"No, Godaime-sama."

"Three separate Jounin must recommend a Chuunin before he is considered, and the Hokage is offered the chance to dismiss or accept the proposal. One elite or ANBU elite examines the candidate and decides to fail or pass them. They are then, if possible, paired with an experienced Jounin for several weeks to get them used to the advanced standard and expectation."

Izumo stared blankly forward, not understanding why she was explaining this to him. She sighed noisily, and Jiraiya sniffed from the corner of the room. The ANBU didn't move.

"You have been recommended for promotion, Izumo. You have 48hours in which to decide whether or not you would like to accept and take the examination."

Izumo gaped openly. "Me?" he squeaked, dumbfounded. "Who in their right mind would recommend me?"

"You may go, Izumo." Grinned the Hokage, "But think on this: If we go to war, we will need capable, strong and efficient Jounin in the front lines. There is no shame in wishing to remain alive; and your best chance of that is within the Chuunin ranks."

"Thank you, Godaime-sama." Izumo bowed politely, totally shocked, waved awkwardly at the ANBU guards, and left the room.

His head spun wildly – he'd never considered the Jounin ranks, wondered why he'd been chosen, out of so many of his comrades. Maybe Tsunade had simply seen his melancholy in these recent weeks – since Reiko and Kotetsu and that growing sense of loss – and decided to offer a way out of it. Whatever the reasons were, Izumo knew it was a rare offer he could not turn down.

_There is no shame in wishing to remain alive_, perhaps. But to have the chance to fight and choose to do nothing? Some things were more important than a person's life; and sometimes opportunities were there to be taken. Izumo was a competent shinobi: but if he failed _this_, he would die.

_There is no shame in wishing to remain alive, _maybe. But he'd choose to fight.

* * *

**End of Chapter 14!**

**Thanks to:**

Hey-Diddle-Diddle: Thanks so much! I'm such a huge fan of your writing, so it means a lot XD Thanks again.

Alana Quinn: Thank you so much! Especially about your newfound Kotetsu/Izumo love, lol. Sorry, but the dogs had to go! It's why I refused to give them names; I didn't want to get myself all attached, lol!

ChibiRisu-Chan: I'm so floored by your support! Thanks XD (And as if I'd outright _kill_ him/looks around shiftily…/)

Bitter green tea: Wow, thanks so much! And I have to say: _love_ the notes in your profile. I crave concrit, so it's nice to know some people out there are willing to offer actual thoughts. One thing I adore about this fandom, so many people seem to be in it for the same reasons: to explore the characters and the Naruto-verse and have fun with it. I think that shows in the quality of a lot of the works.

Corycian Muse: Thank you! Oh man, I don't know what's happening to my timeline, lol. I think the plot's managed to get so confusing I don't really need to add anything else! I find it's quite difficult to keep the strict sense of time when Kakashi's away for weeks at a time – but that should get crazier now, lol!

BunnyS: thanks that's such a compliment! But there are way better storied on here than mine, you just need to scrounge for them! Lol! Err….I actually had to go back and check, but I did write the mask down… but yeah, that would've been…awkward with the mask in place XD

Sorviball: Thanks so much! Glad you liked the Kurenai/Asuma. And yet another person to comment on the dogs, lol. I'm so glad it's the OC's and not ME you're all blaming, or I'd be ducking some sharp, heavy objects I think:P

Queen of Vegetasai: I don't know what else to say, lol! Thanks again for the marriage offer, don't think I've had one of those before ;) Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Down The Rabbit Hole: Thank you soo much – and I don't mind the long review, I'm so grateful for your thoughts and insights! The changes in Sasuke will be explained eventually, or at least start to make more sense. He couldn't stay as the angsty bastard he was, love him and all, but it just wouldn't work! Thanks for you comments about the Rin scene, and the Asuma/Kurenai! ANBU ARE AWESOME! (sorry, I'm done.) Thanks again XD

Oboro: Thanks! Oh they _are_ whack-jobs, and it _is_ so very pretty, lol! Thanks for your comments about the KakaIru side of things as well! XD

**Thanks to**: Telosphilos; sna (pimpin'), Faith b (liek woah ;) ), Shake-it-buddy; Tami; firedraygon; jemiul, Katarin, Azamiko, Mako Red Eyes, GoldenRat, Dai-Chan, Shock (I squee'd at you already, lol) and Alana Hikari Chan, SugarHighsP…


	15. 15

**Notes: **A few of you mentioned that Tsunade's reactions in the last chapter seemed ooc/too sudden. I'd planned to justify it in this chapter anyway, but reading back I agree – for some reason I thought that I'd added in a section that I hadn't: S. Hopefully it's all explained in this chapter, or at least makes that side of her easier to sympathise with:)

Timeline: The bar scene, the mission scenes, Tsunade's scene and the first pup scenes are all set before the events of chapter 14. The Team-Gai scene is for Telosphilos, Genma and Raidou are for Nezuko, the dancing Jounin are for Shock XD

**Thanks again to everyone that's read/reviewed! **And to Shock, Alana and Telosphilos who were kind enough to proof-read parts of this chapter XD

For everyone that's helped so much with this chapter (20 Pages of Doom), there is more Iruka-love XD

* * *

A few days after his training with Izumo, Iruka found himself carefully surveying his reflection in the full length mirror in Morino Ibiki's offices.

Formal Chuunin uniform – a fitted grey-green uniform, high collar clipping snugly round the neck, pins pressed neatly at the shoulder – giving Iruka a more cleanly presented, self important air than he was used to. It was slightly unfortunate that his usual uniform didn't have as many pockets and folds in which to hide the recording equipment and live feeds he needed for such close range surveillance, the suit making him look far more elaborately dressed up than his usual casual look.

On the bright side, as long as Kotetsu hadn't informed their target of Iruka's sexual preferences (and even then he could easily use it to flatter her with), the closely fitted clothing might come to some use after all. He retied his hair, lower and more loose than usual, allowing some stray thick locks to fall a little across his right eye and ear – tickling the bridge of his nose and effectively concealing the tiny ear piece.

"You're certain you can get the information?" asked the ANBU assigned to fitting out Iruka's surveillance equipment. Iruka imagined an affected bored expression pinching the blank face behind that mask, imagined how advantageous Kakashi would've found the situation had he been home, imagined what he'd have thought of the rumpled look Iruka had painstakingly cultivated.

"I can get the information." Iruka was surprised to find his voice slightly rough – husky – it was almost five weeks since Kakashi had left, and Iruka was getting impatient.

"Fine. We can give you some quick tips if you like? Chuunin training might not cover what you'll face…" Iruka grinned at the ANBU's huffy voice. What would this elite think if he discovered Iruka's _Chuunin training_ had been ANBU level anyway? That the Sandaime had taken a personal interest in his interrogatory education? What would he make of Iruka's experience interrogating the elite shinobi of Konoha on a regular basis? Of Saratobi's own peculiarly humane methods of 'Individual Assessment'?

"No, I think I'll be fine." Iruka answered politely, all sweetness and light as he exited the room. Genma met him at the door – dressed up for his night on the town in his own unique fashion.

"You're so impatient," Iruka mock sighed, taking in Genma's half open shirt, the tight trousers. "Raidou-san's only been gone for a week and you're already trying to pull!"

The Jounin snorted in amusement, the erratically bobbing senbon not hiding the brief flash of worry along the set of his mouth. "I'm just making sure I look good enough to cause a distraction should you get in over your adorably studious head. Speaking of which…"

"And so _humble, _why -" But before Iruka could even finish his sentence, Genma had pulled a camera out of seemingly thin air and proceeded to take several quick fire photographs of Iruka. "_Genma!_"

"I'm on technical surveillance, Iruka-sensei!" Genma insisted eagerly as he dodged Iruka's unskilled lunge towards the camera – no point seriously competing against a Jounin, unless he had to. "I have to make sure I have _visual references_!"

Iruka stared blankly for a moment, before choosing to just ignore the higher ranking ninja in favour of meeting Izumo, Kotetsu and the target – Reiko. Genma jogged lightly after him, breaking off after a moment to join a surprisingly cheerful and scantily dressed crowd of what Iruka recognised as Jounin undercover specialists, taking several pictures of his comrades as he met them. This must've been a mission they'd all clamoured for.

Weekends off didn't come cheap in a ninja village, after all.

* * *

Raidou slowly moved into consciousness – senses scanning his safety before his eyes had even managed to fully open.

The forest was noisy – he managed to conclude before the pain returned – but comfortably noisy – with birds and scurrying things and '_Oh shit, but if that eight legged **weight** on my back is a spider I am screaming like a girl – ninja or not – oh shit – no insect should be that **heavy**.'_

After a few moments of suppressed whimpering, Raidou managed to throw himself to his back (wincing a little at the _crunchsquelch_ of whatever had been making a nest on him), worrying less about the man-shaped-dent now in the undergrowth and more about dragging his battered arse over to wherever he'd deposited Iwari – because, and he had to face it – if he'd been unconscious for more than four hours there was no _way_ his friend would still be alive. And nothing attracted the enemy like _corpse_.

Raidou swung to his knees, pausing on all fours as he waited for the worst of the dizziness to pass. He back-tracked his own far too obvious path to a large, covered dugout – a three-man shallow trench, left from the Third War, stationed between medical bunkers for ambush and diversionary purposes – moving awkwardly past the overgrown bushes that once acted as a shield from the outside world, now dense, unkempt and next to useless.

Iwari _was_ dead. His eyes were open, which Raidou found strange remembering the man's stubborn refusal to wake when he had been able enough to attempt treating his comrade. Iwari was _dead._ So Raidou – swallowing back some unprofessional emotion – took his team-mate's small water canteen, fuller and fresher than his own; some extra weapons to replace those he'd lost; and carefully removed Iwari's hitae-ate and dog-tags, slinging them both around his neck before methodically assessing his own wounds and decided how best to defend himself should he meet another ambush.

_Iwari is dead_, Raidou thought when he'd finished his preparation, finding himself fighting the rising urge to vomit as he noticed for the first time the buzzing of flies around his friend's pale corpse. _Shit_. _Shit - and I can't find my bearings. _

Raidou dragged himself from the undergrowth, stumbling a little at first before he figured out the best way to move through the pain of any weight on his leg. He walked for hours, tripped a few times at first – not daring to look down at his feet lest he become thrown by the waves of dizziness that were already too frequent. Raidou guessed that he probably shouldn't fall asleep again so carried on moving through the spots that sometimes lined his vision – although he'd hardly choose to call the horrifying blackness of before '_sleep.'_

Sleep was something longed for, a peaceful depth that – while evading so many of his comrades – had always been kind to him. Raidou's haven was his ability to sleep, to rest. He didn't dream much, and when he did they were never vivid enough to cause him grief. Sleep came best with Genma, after they'd screwed each other senseless and there was no more need for them to stay awake. Raidou longed for that feeling now, that breathless space between being asleep and being absolutely spent. He had to get home. He could sleep when he got home.

Raidou could feel himself lapsing, his feet faltering horribly and his concentration wavering. He needed some impetus to keep moving; allowing his mind to wander through the daze of his journey back home, willing himself to remain awake and alert – just in case – even as the pain dimmed to a distant throbbing to his distressed awareness.

He had to get home – or no one would know about Iwari; no one would know, and his comrade's wife would cry and worry and give birth and forever be left thinking: '_Give it a week. He'll be home in a week. He'll meet his kid in a week.' _And his child would grow up and hate Iwari for leaving, and become an _avenger _and get himself killed – and it would all be Raidou's fault for bleeding out instead of getting home, and he'd be damned if he'd let _that_ drag on his eternal conscience.

Raidou heard a quick snap high up above his head – the accompanying fierce crackle of chakra dragging him painfully back to alertness as some battle began to rage – and he turned a sharp right, hoping to get the hell out of the way of that scene because he'd only get himself killed anyway and that _wasn't_ what this mission was supposed to be about. He could hide maybe, and wait for it to pass, but he didn't trust himself to keep awake and he _had to get home!_

He managed to hobble slowly around the battle – each step sending an odd shudder through the right side of his form – cutting it far too fine for comfort but too aware of his body's limitations and his current sense of direction. The fight fizzled out long before Raidou had made it back to the rough, hidden path that led to Konoha, and he heard someone let out a low whine as he drew near. His thoughts raced to the small medical pack at his belt – he gauged the amount of bandages and aid he could spare – but the knowledge that it might be a ploy, an enemy, a trap – or another dying friend – made him hesitate.

"Tell me who you are?" Raidou's voice was low and croaky – Genma would've laughed at the harassed tone, would've laughed a lot provided he couldn't see the state of him. "I can't stop unless you say!"

Raidou crouched by a tree – his eyes unable to focus enough to make out the worn markings on it. There was an arrow though, pointing away from where he believed Konoha to be. He waited for the return call until his eyes grew heavy, until he daren't risk the exposure that came with crouching on a pathway covered in the soothing drip of his own blood.

When Raidou couldn't wait anymore, when the ragged sounds of his own breaths became too loud to his oddly muted ears, he continued on home.

* * *

Team seven, having just finished several low class missions involving drains, gardening and cats – missions that would have gone far smoother without the three hyper yapping fur-balls they had been charged with training – were sprawled out in one of the training fields.

"Do you think," began Sakura, as she resignedly watched Joben – now tinted slightly green from his drain exploration. "That Kakashi-sensei knew what they were like when he _named_ them."

"Oh _no_, Sakura." Sasuke huffed sarcastically as he gripped Kioshi lightly by the scruff of his neck – punishment for the puppy's disobedient romp in the Daimyo's wife's prize garden. "He just randomly decided that 'enjoys cleanliness' is an _ideal_ name for a dog that climbs in drawers and jumps down drains."

"He ran from a _cat_!" Naruto groaned pathetically again, lying despondently on the grass as Sushi trembled beneath Naruto's collar.

"We heard you the first time, idiot." Sakura sighed, wondering how they could fail so miserably at training puppies. _Hatake _puppies at that.

A series of high pitched protests pulled the three shinobi from their desperation in time to see two highly amused ANBU members depositing Team Konohamaru in the field. The female – a petite, purple haired kunoichi – pointed out the sprawled forms of Team Seven as her companion (carrying Konohamaru and Udon by the backs of their shirts) dropped the kids to the soft grass as the kunoichi waved cheerfully in Sakura's direction.

Bemusedly lifting an arm to wave back at the masked ANBU Cat, the male shinobi – an owl mask covering his face – tilted his head oddly before grabbing the Cat's hand and tugging her back the way they'd come. The three puppies immediately gave chase – Sushi getting briefly tangled in Naruto's jacket before bounding after his brothers towards Team Konohamaru.

Moegi's shrill screech at the puppies' sudden dart towards them seemed to shock Sasuke out of the lethargic bemusement that the day's event had left him with. Rising quickly to his feet Sasuke stomped his heel on the ground, his sharp shouted order – "Kioshi! _Stay_!" – stunning the pup into obedience.

Kioshi's tiny form jittered uncontrollably in his attempt to be still, Sushi bounding a few more loping steps before flopping down on the grass beside his older litter-mate. Joben ran a little further, circling back warily when he realised the other pups weren't following. Spotting Kioshi's tense stance, and sniffing at the older dog's heels, Joben crouched close to the ground – growling at the three Gennin children in front of the pups.

Sakura was too tired to be surprised, too numb to be impressed. She thought perhaps that emotionally, this was the calm before the shit storm, and welcomed the hysteria she had no doubt was ahead of her. She raised an eyebrow as Sasuke allowed himself to slump back down onto the grass. Naruto hadn't moved from his despairing sprawl.

"When'd you teach him that?" Sakura asked as the young Gennin across the field began to hesitantly pet the three nin-pups.

"Just now," the Uchiha replied nonchalantly, digging his fingers into the soft soil behind him.

"We're doomed!" Naruto cried, burying his face further into the grass, Sakura idly wondered if he was trying to suffocate himself, and almost suggested he use a sock.

But then, she thought again – casting a mortified look at those too-trusting, too affectionate dogs – they'd all suffocate soon enough when Kakashi returned. If it was even possible to choke on embarrassment.

* * *

Kotetsu stood up abruptly, swaying a little with a crease in his brow before grinning widely. "I gotta take a piss!"

The announcement shocked the table out of their awkward silence, Reiko looking almost disgusted before she grinned drunkenly, the whiteness of her small teeth contrasting with her browned skin and gel-slick black hair. _A farce, _Iruka thought, even while he matched it with a ridiculous grin of his own, slipping his eyes shut slightly to help dilate his pupils. _None of us have drunk enough for any of us to be this inebriated._

"I'll come with you!" Izumo declared, slightly too noisily, grabbing the arm of his shocked and bemused friend as he dragged them off towards the back of the bar, bumping into Genma as he and another seemingly drunk shinobi staggered their fluid, winding way towards the bar, and away from the insanely jumping, writhing circle of dancing surveillance operatives.

"They are so weird!" chuckled Reiko, her deep purple lips – the lower one still slightly swollen – turning up in an oddly affectionate smirk. "I thought only girls went in pairs!"

"It's Izumo's attempt at subtle," Iruka offered wryly, his previous certainty thrown a little by the affection in her expressive face.

He took a long sip of his drink – forming the prompt in his mind before asking it aloud. He had to find out about her, and to do so he had to allow her to gain confidence. She needed to slip up. But what could he tell her that would cause her over-confidence? He grasped at straws, remembering his lessons from years ago. _There's no lie like the truth, Umino. It's all in the wording._

"Izumo wants me to find out what you think of Kotetsu," he said almost casually – his voice thick with the underlying worry of a concerned friend. "And Izumo's probably in there playing match-maker himself!"

Reiko had the grace to flush slightly, a coy little smile tugging at her lips. A smooth chuckle in Iruka's earpiece congratulated the move. She made some noise of flattered interest, her strong Earth Country accent stretching the syllable into a drawl. "Oh?"

"If you don't mind my asking…" Iruka leant in, tracing lines into the condensation on his glass. "What are you doing _here?_ Kotetsu said it would be rude to ask -" Iruka gestured to her face, and his own, his lack of subtlety hopefully endearing her to him – or at least convincing her to underestimate his skill. "-but I'm a Konoha nin, you know? Gossip, gossip…"

She laughed lightly, blinking quickly – either she _really_ didn't want to talk about her travelling here, or she'd been expecting a different reason for his asking. Iruka fought a smirk as she cast her eyes down at the sticky table top. The noise of the bar rode like waves around them, and he could almost feel the surveillance teams leaning in.

"Stone want war." She began, voice quiet and hesitant, and Iruka had to lean in until he could smell her clearly, even through the alcohol and smoke saturating the atmosphere. He distantly admired the move. "I…. I didn't agree with what they were… proposing. So I left."

"You deserted?" Iruka remained next to her ear, but raised his voice slightly, ensuring the accusation was lucid and pronounced.

"Well," she bristled predictably, the lack of sympathy in his voice jolting her eyes up to meet his caring expression. Her eyes immediately darted away, sliding to the left as her pupils contracted. "I'd rather desert them than… than kill innocents!"

"That's very noble of you." Iruka conceded gently, watching as she searched him for sarcasm, or an opening, or _something_. The pulse of her neck, the jumping of her skin, calmed slightly as he watched. She gave him an oddly provocative half-grin, and he realised where she thought his eyes had slid to. The bar was perfect for this form of interrogation – he'd probably be able to time her pulse with his fingers and make it look like flirting. "But aren't you of the Senshi Clan?"

"Yes. What of it?"

"They helped to found Hidden Stone…" Iruka's comment gained a brusque nod from the kunoichi, he could almost see her mind forming accusations of abuse and brutality and dishonour – anything that would justify her own desertion and keep her in the game a little longer. He decided to see how far he could push it. "Ninja aren't deserters."

She froze for a moment, her long fingers flexing around her glass. "Not all children turn out like their parents!" She spat, and Iruka lowered his eyes carefully.

"True." He hesitated for a moment, almost apologetically. "I'm sorry, Reiko-san, I didn't mean to offend…" Iruka smiled a little, eyes crinkling innocently as her mouth curved warily back.

He laughed a little, straightening as he nudged his elbow gently into her side. Too gently. She'd think he underestimated her. "So you're not just banging Kotetsu for information, then?"

She laughed with him – high pitch and fluid – before answering teasingly. "You've got me! I'm secretly spying on behalf on the ninja that broke my face!"

They exchanged a solemn look before cracking up again, their laughing gaining odd looks from the shinobi on the surrounding tables – many of them Reiko's tails. Kotetsu and Izumo finally returned, wearing identical expressions of some strange emotion; suspended between fury and mollification. An uncomfortable silence rapidly descended, and Iruka – realising how close his body was to Reiko's – stood quickly.

"I'll get the drinks in then, shall I?" He threw a quick smirk at Izumo, watching as his friend slumped down in his chair, pointedly ignoring Kotetsu's attentive interaction with Reiko as Iruka made his way to the bar.

* * *

Ebisu had been tracking the A-Class Missing Nin for days, and was finding it increasingly difficult to cover his tracks.

With Hatake Kakashi on a mission elsewhere, and the skills of Inuzuka Tsume and Hana similarly preoccupied, it fell to the Special Jounin stealth expert to track this particular criminal – linked without doubt to the horrendous ambushes of the last month. Ebisu was worried – his tracking abilities weren't his most comfortable skills – but he was Konoha's expert shinobi. He wasn't about to let the Hokage down.

Eventually the target slowed, scanning the area before setting up his bedroll in the dirt of the forest floor. Ebisu, masking his chakra expertly and scanning for the tell-tale signs of his target's awareness, decided to move in slightly, gradually inching forwards until he was almost directly above the Missing Nin.

A flare of chakra was Ebisu's only warning as the criminal below disappeared from existence – a clone, then – and the _real_ body fell silently from above – the force and weight of the other nin knocking Ebisu from the branch he rested upon.

They crashed through several branches before either nin managed to get their footing – Ebisu using chakra to glue his feet to a tree-trunk in time to prevent braining himself against an enormous branch below.

He extended chakra through his arms, pushing his enemy away from his body in order to get free enough to right himself. They squared up several meters from one another – separated by crisscrossing branches that did not muffle the killing intent rolling from both forms.

"All alone and far from home, little nin," the criminal's sing-song hiss was confident and clear as he grinned confidently. "I'll make sure to leave a body for your family to find."

Ebisu casually adjusted his sunglasses, pulling out a weapon scroll and slowly running finger across its length. "You won't need to, shinobi-san. I do not intend to let you live, and hold no such respect for your corpse."

With a fierce growl, the nin leapt towards Ebisu, deflecting everything the stealth expert could throw at him. Once it had begun, the fight lasted minutes, the Konoha nin – for all his bravado – simply no match for the other shinobi.

After, Ebisu lay dying in the undergrowth for more than twenty minutes before a scraping sound jolted him into awareness. The shiver that tumbled inside his own _bones_ made it impossible to prevent the keening whine that escaped his lips.

"Tell me who you are?" Came a low, croaky call. It sounded distant, and Ebisu tensed. _What if it's a trap, an ambush, an enemy? What if it's another dying friend?_

"I can't stop unless you say!" Ebisu couldn't trust a voice in the dark – and wow but everything really was getting dark – so he kept silent, peculiarly aware of the blood oozing slowly from his form.

Eventually, the voice moved on.

* * *

"She was a spy?" Tenten gasped, glaring at her team-mates. "I shared my _room_ with that bitch!"

"Tenten-chan!" Lee's overly shocked face undermined his dismay. "You shouldn't use that language! I think being confined here has got to you!"

Neji tried to keep a straight face as Lee continued; Tenten's trapped expression growing more frustrated with each word.

"I'm only repeating what Hiashi-sama told me." It was odd, he felt, that even now they were mostly on speaking terms, how the _sama_ always came out through gritted teeth. "You know how he likes to use his village status to crash the bigger meetings."

"I almost respected her." Tenten grumbled, scowling now. "She was a strong woman. A fighter."

"She was the eldest child of a Stone warrior clan." Neji noted. "That would be expected of her."

"And we must _always_ do as we're _expected_, right Neji-_san_?" Tenten teased, her sly little grin digging at Neji with practised ease. "Not all children turn out like their parents."

"Yes, look at Hinata-chan; or Sakura-san!" gushed Lee, reflecting on the two kunoichi he knew best outside of Tenten's company.

He had always been fond of the kind hearted Hyuuga heir, and suspected Neji's view of her had changed dramatically since their first Chuunin exams. Haruno Sakura was admired for an entirely different reason. As the first ninja in her family for generations, Sakura had no latent expectations to fall back on, and had needed to work hard to gain the recognition her team-mates and teacher had so easily – in Lee's opinion – achieved. _Plus she's gorgeous_, Lee thought - the beautiful femininity of her hair and the graceful slope of her pale forehead; her lithe athletic movements – surer now than they had ever been when they were first gennin…

"Hn." Agreed Neji, lips quirking slightly at some joke his team-mates couldn't see. "Lee, show Tenten those pictures you took from Gai-sensei's apartment."

"You went through his _things_!" Tenten yelled, horrified, as Lee protested his innocence. Neji waited calmly for his team-mates to quiet.

"We only had a quick look, to understand where we could and couldn't go. Sensei lives closer to the hospital, and we didn't want to leave you both." Neji's explanation soothed Tenten's indignation a little, until he turned to Lee. "And don't pretend you didn't pocket those photographs, I _watched_ you."

"You _stole_ from your _sensei!_ Lee!" Tenten screeched, heedless of the panicked shushing noises her green-clad friend was making.

"_Look at them!_ Tenten-chan, look at these pictures before you tell!" Lee fished around in the covers of his leg weights, pulling out three crumpled photographs of several of what appeared to be the current Jounin teams – though much younger. One photo was of Gai's Gennin team - posing with their teacher in the most self confident manner she'd ever seen. Tenten wondered how long it had taken these students to be confronted with the realities of shinobi life.

The second picture was of twelve shinobi – it reminded her of the family photographs she had seen in old houses like the Hyuuga estates and the Hokage's tower during Sandaime's rule. Three Jounin senseis posed cheerfully at the back of the photo, their nine students lines up in front of them. She could easily make out Gai-sensei and Kakashi-san; the latter's bored expression obviously designed (and succeeding) to irritate both the teenage Green Beast and a goggled boy to his left. Hinata's teacher was easy to spot, the wild dark hair and red eyes unchanged over time, crouching down in front of the boys with a mahogany haired girl in an old-fashioned medic's apron and a petite blonde with bright, dark eyes.

The third picture was slightly out of focus – a shot of the medic from the group photograph, looking in the camera's general direction. She was a little older in this one – her expression was far more confident – though she looked harassed, hurried, and was either clinging or being clung to, by Kakashi-san's gloved hand.

"We think this is how it all started!" Lee spoke in a rushed, excited whisper. Tenten could almost see the sheer effort of will it took him to not shout the words at the top of his lungs.

"Don't drag me into your conspiracy theories." Neji started, taking the images from Tenten's grasp and placing them neatly in a concealed pocket of his clothing.

"Our sensei's Noble and Eternal Rivalry! A Quest for True Love!" Lee had stars in his eyes, and Tenten wondered if no one else thought taking secret photos of some girl you fancied wasn't a little creepy. "Kakashi-san must have stolen the Fair Lady from Gai-sensei's clutches!"

A nurse came in to check Tenten's vital signs, an act they had grown so used to in the last few weeks that they merely gave a cheery little wave and carried on with their hushed conversation.

"Oh?" Neji sniffed, raising an eyebrow at the thought of Gai and Kakashi fighting over some girl. "And where is she now, then?"

"Maybe Kakashi-san _killed her!" _Tenten laughed, sharing a disbelieving smirk with Neji.

"Maybe _Gai-sensei_ did!" she giggled, not noticing the nurse double and then triple checking the monitors' simple bleeps.

_Mission Room duty tomorrow_, thought the nurse as he listened to the speculation grow wilder, trying to fish out the truths from the exaggeration. _I wonder if I'll see Anko-san?_

* * *

"Well?" Genma asked cheerfully - his quiet voice oddly clear beneath the racket of the room - when Iruka finally met him in the crowd gathered at the bar.

"Oh, she's a spy. No doubt about it." He replied easily, grinning at Aoba when the Chuunin waved in greeting from one of the huddles of bodies lining the long barrier between the partying shinobi and their precious alcohol.

"She tried to double bluff me!" Iruka added, grinning widely at the bemused look on Genma's face. Sandaime-sama would've found the fact hilarious – Iruka was famous among the village's parents for using such intricate circular logic and reverse-psychology on his more stubborn students that he could extract a confession from most within minutes.

"I'll let Godaime-sama know immediately." Genma announced, gesturing to the barmaid to let another shinobi order first. "Can we get anything useful out of her?"

"I don't know. I'll keep working it – but if they're sensible enough she hasn't been privy to the Stone's plans for a while." Iruka leant on the bar in one relaxed motion, aware of how Reiko might be watching them. "She's more at risk by pocketing than the standard infiltration."

"Try and find out if she has contacts. We'll keep the Tails tight on her." Genma reflected, gesturing wildly with a lewd grin for the benefit of their alert little spy. "The Stone failed at this sort of infiltration before, I can't see them trying it again – but if that's what you conclude Tsunade wants her actively tailed for at least five days to find out what she knows."

"How would find out further?"

"Oh you know," Genma leant in slightly, "False documents, fake leads, see what she does with them. Ideally we'd have Ebisu all over her, but he's not back yet."

"I thought he was just on a standard tracking?" Iruka asked, waving a hand around vaguely. "Not like him to be late."

"Yeah, but everything's standard in theory."

"Shit." Iruka shoved at Genma with a slight frown – playing up to the innocent teacher routine as he noticed Reiko's eyes dart their way again. "Alright. But what if that's what they want us to think? That she has contacts I mean? Your Tails'll be able to cover that alright?"

"Hmmm…" Genma waved the barmaid over, flicking the senbon in his teeth in a way that made her blush and move to Iruka; taking his order instead of the flirtatious Jounin's. "Find that out too."

x

Iruka moved gradually back to the table, setting the drinks down before handing Reiko's over with a cheeky grin. "For our own little spy!"

She laughed delightedly, playing along. "And what about for all my comrades?"

She didn't flinch, didn't change her breathing; her eyes were steady and sharp and amused. Iruka gave her a clear once over, letting her think she'd won the little mind game. _She's working alone. She's alone._

* * *

The Godaime Hokage conducted Tuesday morning's meetings with her hackles raised. Strategy after strategy was dismissed – strategy after strategy that just wasn't good enough. She hadn't heard from Raidou or Ebisu in twelve days – as so many of their comrades insisted on reminding her – six more and they would be considered missing nin. Unless their corpses were found first.

Hatake Kakashi had come in yesterday evening – half bursting with plans and suggestions, which were half smothered by his obvious need for sleep – but he hadn't mentioned the many Konoha operatives that had gone missing in the last two weeks. The two weeks which had turned out to be almost a complete village-wide shut down – Tsunade had already restricted missions to the Jounin and ANBU ranks – and she could see the restless tension running through the gossiping Chuunin ranks, the nervous energy of the Gennin teams. At least he'd been able to positively identify Senshi Reiko – the girl was a good spy, no matter how obvious Umino Iruka found her methods to be. She would be executed later in the day, and Tsunade still hadn't figured out a convincing way of getting her here.

And Jiraiya was still glaring at her from across the room.

"Alright, alright, that's enough!" She sighed, waving off the bickering strategists – their hopeless nervousness coming out in petty arguments that didn't help anyone. "Everybody out, we're getting nowhere. I'll speak to you all tomorrow."

The office cleared slowly, as if the bodies there were simply suspended in time, waiting for Tsunade's next decision. This was _why_ she'd fought against becoming the Hokage – this was the reason she didn't want to return. Too many people – too many of _her_ people – that just didn't know what to _do._

As the last lagging ANBU strategists finally stole their way from the room, Jiraiya folded his arms huffily across his body, chin against his chest as he glared.

"Finally," he huffed. "I've wanted to speak to you for a while."

Tsunade mentally steeled herself for the argument to come. Jiraiya was like a storm; he'd rant and shout and she'd ignore him. Maybe even hit him if he offended her. Eventually, he grow sick of screaming at the brick wall a leader _had_ to be. Sometimes he'd make some sense, but rarely.

"If it's about Kakashi -"

"We'll get to Kakashi." Jiraiya uncrossed himself, leant forward on his chair. An inquisitive expression crossed his face. "Why isn't Shiranui panicking yet?"

"You noticed that, hmm?" Tsunade smiled bitterly – a twist of the mouth in all the wrong places. "He doesn't know that Raidou's late back." A sharp silence greeted her; Jiraiya seemed to contemplate the wisdom of the idea – a look on his face that shocked her every time she saw it.

Jiraiya's answer was expected, concerned. "You'd better hope that he comes back alive."

"Can we get to the argument now?" she sighed, utterly weary with the downward spiral she felt her village moving in, almost looking forward to yet another rift between the Sannin if it moved the conversation away from her shinobi and his _missing _lover – it _hurt_ that she couldn't do anything about it, about _any _of it. For _any_ of them. "That is why you're _here, _after all."

"Fine. You're a hypocritical _bitch_, do you know that?" Jiraiya hissed, the venom in his voice almost shocking the Godaime. "All that bullshit at Umino's birthday – about your children having hope and starting to understand what we felt about them all, and then you _dare_ to act like you used to. Like Kakashi's thirteen again, and you're still relying on the same _stupid_ rumours."

"You must've misunderstood me, Jiraiya." Her voice was cold and clipped. Warning. She hoped he hadn't noticed the scrolls on her desk – Jiraiya and Sakumo's last reports, their oh-so-methodically detailed analyses of the strategic movements of the enemies of the Second and Third Wars. She'd been forced to go through them, every one, to remember them – her old friends and team-mates – as they had once been. She missed that strength, that invincible immortality they'd thought they possessed.

"Do you have fun picking out your scapegoats? Is there a process to it, or will you take the first little brat that stumbles along?" Jiraiya made some noise that might have been a sigh – if not for the tense frustration, the barely checked anger that fuelled it. "It won't _do,_ Tsunade. You can't fall on our failures every time _your _life goes to shit!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The pointedly unconcerned arch of an elegant eyebrow only infuriated the Toad Hermit more, as Tsunade began to pack scrolls and folder haphazardly into the desk drawers.

"No?" The Sannin crossed the room, leaning against her desk again – an odd echo of the accusations of yesterday, and Tsunade struggled to maintain her feigned indifference. "How about when we first returned here? Don't think I don't remember what you said to Kakashi after Uchiha Itachi's particular brand of mind-fuck."

"That's totally different -" she stuttered, her confidence battered by the sick sort of sense he was making. She had been harsh, maybe, on her return to Konoha; that first meeting after so long. What had she said after dragging him from the coma? _Only beaten by two enemies…thought you were a genius… _some genius. But she'd known about the Akatsuki – at least, she'd known what Jiraiya had told her – and Kakashi could not have been a match for two of _them_.

She'd said worse to the Hatake Brat before _and _since – after all, with only those perverts for company he _needed_ someone to put him in his place – and she _needed _an outlet. And before her, Jiraiya was still talking. Ranting.

"Every time, Tsunade. Every time your world comes crashing down you look for someone to take it out on. I think sometimes you convince _yourself_ that you're right. I swear; we used to think you had an Evil Inner Tsunade stomping around in there! -"

"Shut up." Tsunade stood, crashing her hands against her desk, nose to nose with her childhood team-mate. "You don't _understand _about Kakashi – He – I mean - "

"This isn't _about_ Kakashi, you _moronic_ girl! You were _fine_ with him a month ago!" The old Sannin growled, nose nudging dangerously against Tsunade's own. She almost laughed at the old insult. "What's _wrong_, Tsunade? Really?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She repeated, walking around the desk to pick at some war-time strategy map pasted sloppily to the wall.

"You used to take it out on me, Tsunade-_hime._ After your brother – after Dan." He came up behind her, almost touching her, his breath hot against her ear. "But I grew _wise_ to you, Hokage-_chan_, so you moved down the pecking order."

"Don't be so ridicu- " She span round to yell some unnecessary retort, only to find herself trapped by his body, nose to nose again. She fisted a hand at his shoulder for balance.

"Do you not find it odd that you create such conflict with your predecessor's student? Our old friend's son? '_You only hurt the ones you love_.'Strangely enough, Orochimaru told me that." His voice was oddly subdued – slow – as if he was simply allowing the words to get through.

He'd said it all before, of course, he'd screamed, shouted, written and attacked the words. He'd said them in a thousand ways and watched them slide off the tragic masks that the legendary kunoichi favoured. He'd never tried _this_ before, though. Never dared to get quite so close. "You have to _face_ your fears, Tsunade, not displace them."

Her eyes widened oddly, fist clutching slightly at the cloth of his shoulder, long nails digging in. "What if we can't win this time, Jiji?" Tsunade's voice was horribly small, and Jiraiya tried to look anywhere but that mouth – or lower.

"Then we'll take the Stone down with us." He replied, somewhat huskily, amazed at how easily their scents mingled in the air between them. "I promised you we'd protect our village, and we will. But we can't do it if you doubt them."

She laughed, almost ruefully, almost relieved – looking up at the old pervert with wide eyes. "I'm an idiot. Kakashi's just so _easy_, he just sits in front of you and bares his neck."

"Hn." Jiraiya looked down at her, mouth set in a grim line. "What are you going to do about it?"

"What can I do?"

"Stop letting your head run off with you – Stop using bystanders in this war against yourself. It doesn't help. The Brat'd probably like to cause his old _friend_ some damage." The Hermit speculated, stroking his chin with the hand that _wasn't_ gradually inching its way to Tsunade's hip. "The one that got Maito Gai."

Tsunade shifted, feeling horribly exposed. "When did you get so-"

"Hokage-sama! It's Raidou-san!" Shizune's shrill call gave them little warning before the office door was flung open. Tsunade moved instinctively towards the wall, and Jiraiya stepped with her – pressing her body flush against it, finally allowing his eyes to take in his team-mate's generous form.

"Hokage-sama?" They froze like that, momentarily, Shizune's shocked and scandalised voice breaking through to Jiraiya clearly – any student of _his_ would have found the humour in the situation – but not this one, oh no. He grinned as Tsunade hit him, forcibly ejecting him from the room. He took one last practised look at his Hokage before leaving – nodding happily at the more understanding set of her jaw, the more determined glint of her eyes.

'_Well, that's one crisis averted,' _Jiraiya congratulated himself as he strolled from the tower. '_Now to finish the new book.'_

* * *

On the day after Kakashi's return to Konoha he woke surprisingly early, body still running on a month of hyper-alert paranoia and not yet used to the relative safety and comfort of his home village.

He struggled at first to regain his alertness – Iruka's gentle administrations of the night before leaving him relaxed and loath to move – but eventually crawled out of bed and into the shower when he realised how pointless it would be to try and get back to sleep.

It was 10:26 am by the time he'd got as clean (and awake) as he was going to get – the greasy tinge of his hair was annoyingly stubborn, and the pins and needles in his leg hadn't quite dissipated yet – making Kakashi three hours late for his students had it been a normal day.

He decided to wander for a while – walk around in the sunlight and allow himself to be _seen_ by people, maybe – in the hopes of finding his brats and getting his puppies back. He hoped they wouldn't react too strongly to their sire's death – normal dogs, once weaned, rarely remained strongly attached – but Kakashi's pack were hardly normal dogs.

He eventually found his students – much to his surprise – lounging by the river. The sheen of sweat on their brows indicated recent sparring, or training of some kind – even Sakura's arms were slightly more gleaming than usual. Naruto's jacket was tossed carelessly on the ground beside the three, and Kakashi – moving closer silently, the stealth coming naturally to him after the last five weeks' work – noticed Sushi wriggling in the fabric, chasing his own tail adorably as he held a sleeve between his teeth.

"Yo," Kakashi greeted them, finding his students' tired, deflated expressions highly amusing. Ignoring their questioning yelps, Kakashi passed his students, moving towards a shaded clump of trees by the river's edge. He lounged back against the widest tree – wondering when it had become habit to guide his students instead of actually teaching them – and smiled a little sadly as three grey bundles tore yapping into his lap.

The brats sat before him – for the moment obedient and subdued – no doubt noticing the tired shadow beneath their teacher's exposed eye and the loose fit of his already baggy uniform.

"I see you remembered to feed them!" grinned the Copy Nin, running sure hands across the puppies' flanks and beneath their underbellies, searching for any injuries or abnormalities in their growth.

"What did you teach them?" There was some vague note of expectant teasing in his voice, and Sasuke bristled.

"Not much, Kakashi-sensei." He scowled, "you didn't leave us any instruction and -"

Kakashi cut him off with a grin. "Excuses can come _later,_ Sasuke," that cheerful expression never faltered. "What did you _teach_ them?"

"I taught them fetch." Naruto growled, almost daring his sensei to mock. "Sasuke taught them 'stay', and Sakura taught them not to piss inside the house."

"_Naruto_!" Sakura screeched, not noticing in her furious lunge for the blonde shinobi the pleased chuckling Kakashi couldn't quite stifle.

"Show me." Kakashi said quietly, holding a scroll out for the puppies' inspection – the grey dogs climbing over one another the snuffle excitedly at the toy in their master's hand.

He handed the scroll to the sullen Uchiha, still ignoring his other students' squabbling. Sasuke stood, throwing the scroll as far as he could. The puppies moved to chase it, but Kakashi's quiet "_Stay" _had Kioshi settling back into his lap, the other following his lead.

"Go Fetch." Kakashi nodded, and the pups went tearing after the scroll – their chase formation far more sleek than the competitive bounding of weeks ago. "You did _much _better than I thought you would!" Kakashi said after they'd gone, shocking Sakura from her game of _Dent Naruto's Head._

"WHAT?" Naruto yelled, spluttering wildly as Sasuke eyes widened in astonishment.

"One of you tell me," Kakashi said, drumming his newly reclaimed copy of _Icha Icha Paradise_ against his chin (He'd gleefully found it on Iruka's bookshelf, chapter 21 marked with the same strip of map Kakashi had sent with it. He must have _read _it.) The three students looked on warily. "How the commands _fetch_ and _stay_ could be of use to a nin-dog?"

Three blank faces stared back at their masked sensei, and he chose to let them stew. Eventually they'd realise that they'd stumbled across the two most important commands for a retrieval dog to obey.

"Alright, let's look at it this way." Kakashi drawled, wondering if they'd even once thought about leadership in the entire exercise. "Why do you think you couldn't get any further with my puppies?"

"Because they didn't have any chakra!" Naruto squealed, just as Sasuke announced their lack of information on dog training, and Sakura shrieked something about her mother. Kakashi didn't want to know.

"I take it at least one of you went to an Inuzuka?" Kakashi grinned. "And they no doubt guarded their techniques obsessively. Without understanding about how to train nin-dogs, you could still train a dog in the basic ways – sit, stay, here, fetch, roll over, beg – and adapt them. Fetch becomes _bite that enemy_, sit becomes _guard this entrance, _roll over becomes _get out the way of that shuriken_. Eventually, your dog learns to respond to gestures, eventually to instinct. You've got yourself a fighting dog."

"You mean," ventured Sasuke. "You didn't _care_ how far we got?"

"Sakura," Kakashi asked sweetly. "How long did it take for you to realise how to house train Joben?"

Her eye twitched as the whole task came into place – not to _train_ a nin-dog to full capability, but to understand _how_ to train it. Understand how to communicate with your charge – and later your subordinate. They had come close, but they hadn't quite got it.

"Now that you realise how important it is to understand those under your command – those reliant upon you for their safety – you might find it easier to understand the duties of a high level shinobi." Kakashi intoned, driving the lesson home in a way they'd missed in the last month. "Underestimating the little things – underestimating _basic skills_ – will cause you to fail a mission, or even lose you life or the lives of those around you. Don't do it."

Sasuke's lips twitched slightly as he glanced at Naruto's attentive expression. "Yes sensei." Chorused Naruto and Sakura, all of them grinning slightly as a yapping unison drew nearer.

"Lesson's over, I'll see you tomorrow," smiled the masked Jounin, already moving to slice his thumb on a shuriken from his thigh holster. "Thank you for not killing my dogs."

The three left slowly, talking amongst themselves, speculating on their sensei's mission as they moved towards the high street. Hearing several high pitched whimpers, they turned back briefly to see several dogs surrounding Kakashi, the three puppies whining on his lap as Pakkun licked and nuzzled at their little heads. Kakashi was mumbling something they couldn't hear, hands everywhere – each of the dogs receiving the same sorrowful, attentive stroke as they clambered round their master's form.

Adding this to her mental list of Hatake Mysteries, Sakura moved along.

* * *

When Raidou woke, the pain was… easier, a dull ache blissfully muted by drugs. The first thing he saw was Genma's glare, but three of them, all blurred and oddly colourful. The white haze of a medic quickly injected something into the air beside him – _there must be a tube there_ – before leaving the room in what seemed like the smudge of a lightening bolt in slow motion.

"Hey…" His voice was still croaky, now slurred by the morphine's effects on his strangely thick tongue. He reached out to the far left Genma, felt his hand pulled away and settled on someone's lap. "…Sorry m'late."

"You're _late?"_ Genma sounded amused, hysterically so, "I hate you. I _hate_ you. You're never going on a mission again. We're retiring to the country where old women throw things at us for living in sin while their teenage granddaughters fantasize about watching it."

Raidou smiled, too tired to laugh. He could feel Genma holding his hand gently – but considering he couldn't really feel much else figured he must be clinging pretty hard. "Missed me then?" he slurred.

"Shut up." Genma sighed, running a hand that Raidou couldn't feel across his sweaty brow. "I'm sorry about Iwari-kun."

"Slept too long…" Raidou muttered, hating the drugs that muted Genma's comfort but not the sick pain coiling in his gut.

"Sleep some more," Genma ordered soothingly, calmer now that Raidou was _alive_, not just a lump of meat hooked up to too many monitors.

Raidou drifted obediently off to sleep, vague images of old women stalking Genma dancing along the edges of his consciousness.

* * *

**End of Ch.15!**

Technically. However, here's a little PS to apologise for taking so long – I tend to have patches where I just _can't_ write, and the last time I pushed it I stopped writing for a long time. I really love writing this(with exception of this evil chapter), so I'm sure you'll understand why I chose not to rush it XD.

* * *

IMPORTANT: Public Announcement, sent Tues, 2nd July  
PLEASE READ AND RESPOND ACCORDINGLY

**_Citizens of Konoha,_**

_Rumours have been circulating for some time, questioning  
__the malignant intent of if the recent attacks and ambushes  
__targeting our village._

_I would like to address each of you on this matter, however  
__to do so separately or according to rank would bring  
__unnecessary speculation as to the level of information I  
__have shared with each of you._

_Therefore, tomorrow at noon – Wednesday 3rd July – a  
__village meeting will take place outside the Hokage's Tower,  
__I will expect you to attend in order to receive this information  
__and allow me to answer a number of the questions you may have. _

_Copies of this letter have been sent to each villager, and posted  
__upon the public notice boards within the village._

_**Godaime Hokage.**_

_(Please forward any queries to ANBU Strag. Ops. (T&I Unit: 4)  
__Allow 48 hours response time.)_

x

Shikamaru's mother finished reading the announcement with an odd waver to her strong voice, handing it to her husband at Shikaku's impatient gesture. Shikamaru watched as his father paled, hand clenching and unclenching around the flimsy bit of paper as the other fingered the scars on his face.

"_Fuck_." Shikaku spat. "I need a drink."

Shikamaru's mother didn't say a word as Shikaku stormed from the house, dinner still lying untouched at the table. Shikamaru watched her hands shake as she cleared dish away obediently; casting a tight almost-smile at her son when their eyes caught. She jumped on hearing the front door of their home slam awkwardly, rattling the thin slides separating the dining room and kitchen, and Shikamaru realised, seeing his mother's subdued obedience, that something was drastically wrong.

For the first time since hearing the rumours of war, Shikamaru was filled with dread.

* * *

**Thanks to:**

Shock, Telosphilos, sna, Hey-Diddle-Diddle, Faith b and Alana – Thank you all so much for your help and encouragement with this chapter.

ChibiRisu-Chan: Thanks again! (and even more love for you if you find writing decent comedy easy – I can't help missing the balance between funny and plot, before suddenly having crackfic in the making, lol.)

Nezuko: Thanks so much! Genma and Raidou just for you, lol.

Delusional Kitty: Thanks, glad you liked! (and I changed the kage thing as soon as I realised, lol – of all the things to get wrong!)

QoV/Alita: Thankyou! I'm glad so many people responded to Thin!Kakashi – I didn't want to make too much of a meal of it, unless it got all Gai!Drama too quickly, lol! Thanks for your comments on the Random Ninja – I'm a bit wary about giving them too much past in case they just turn into random OC's with canon names, so I'm glad you think they're working with what we've already been given : )

Down The Rabbit Hole: Thanks so much – and credit goes to HeyDiddleDiddle for my considering Gai a little more – I started off wanting to figure him out a little, but it was a comment from her that made me think more about him. And yay for Izumo love! Thanks again! XD

Sorviball: Thanks so much, especially your comments about the yaoi – I'm glad it didn't seem out of place. As for Shikamaru, and Reiko – yeah, I'll definitely explain that as the chapters move on. Thanks as well for your last comment- I really appreciate that, as I have a lot of fun making my own connection when reading, and it's great to think that you can do the same with this – thanks XD.

sleepdoesnothingforyou: Thanks so much for the comments and pimp! ;) (and I checked out your homepage; just wanted to say your HP art is so cool – you have such an interesting style XD)

KensingtonGold, Rane Metal, Dazja, Jemiul, FireDraygon, Tampoposensei, SugarHighsP, GoldenRat, Oboro, Fuhrer, JMJV, Kakashidiot, Fuhrer, Farli, and OrderofChaos


	16. 16

**Notes:** Eventually I'll wrestle these back down size-wise – just realised how huge these chapters are getting! Hope it's not a bad thing for everyone :S  
It's official! 30 seconds of fan-service means their love is almost so canon!

**Thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed. **As ever, any criticism you have is appreciated XD This might be the last chapter for a while – I'm going away soon and might not have much time to write before late September, but I'll try and at least keep my LJ updated from now on, with snippets and things if I can't update in a while XD

Dedicated to all my reviewers and friends in the fandom; because I'd give you _real _presents if I could. Special thanks to Alana for beta-reading, and Shock for this awesome pic from chapter 15 – http:(double slash)img77(dot)imageshack(dot)us(slash)img77(slash)2382(slash)jijitsunade8xb(dot)jpg – I know it's a crappy url for an ffn link, but check it out! XD

Timeline: Covers from the 3rd to the 10th July… loosely.

* * *

With only fifteen minutes until the Godaime Hokage's public announcement, the streets surrounding the Hokage's Tower were teeming; the cancellation of all lessons meant the winding pavement was crammed full of civilians and shinobi alike. The sheer number of people made the air sticky with body heat and recycled oxygen, noisy with huddled murmurings and the exhausted wailing of uncomfortable children; but it was the level of anticipation that made the atmosphere truly heavy. The slowly coiling sense of tension had somehow come to a head – the excitement of eager, overconfident teenagers in sick contrast to the pale resignation of the Third War veterans – the fearful foreboding becoming a tangible thing – like the uncurling claws of a hungry giant.

The only shinobi who didn't seem to be panicking were the group of Jounin posing nonchalantly by a fence in the outer ring of the crowds. Now, in the pessimistic glow of the worried crowds, Iruka and Izumo had somehow found themselves huddled with the group of elite ninja – the Chuunin sensei was simply grateful to be away from the grim speculation of the other academy teachers – their doomsday books were out and accepting bets already – and Iruka, who was finding himself more and more attached to too many of those who would no doubt make up the front lines, wanted none of it.

Instead he held a whispered conversation with a childhood friend – a soon-to-be-promoted-and-sent-to-war childhood friend (and Iruka couldn't quite decide how he felt about that) – while trying to ignore the jealous glances from the older Chuunin and low rank Jounin operatives as they watched him mingle so easily with the Hokage's favourites.

"…so why me?" Izumo was hissing in the teacher's ear as the eaves-dropping Jounin beside them tried not to look interested or smug. He'd been as quiet as possible, but somehow the news of Izumo's imminent promotion had spread wildly, and the young shinobi was having trouble masking his surprise. "Why not you? Or Kotetsu?"

"Because you're right for this, Izumo." Iruka muttered back, trying not to fidget under the cool gazes of the elite Jounin. "They know they'd never get me to up rank, and Kotetsu's intelligence isn't stable enough as a lone operative, _you_ know that. Besides aren't you flattered? The Jounin recommended you of their own volition, you know; it's not like a trick question."

Iruka watched Asuma run fingertips down Kurenai's arm as his eyes searched the crowds for the familiar faces of his students – Iruka had overheard part of their earlier conversation and it seemed that the two generations of the Ino-Shika-Cho teams were visibly, equally nervous. Iruka couldn't blame Asuma for wanting to comfort his students, but recognised the folly of a teacher getting far too attached. Another reason why Iruka would never _want_ to make Jounin-sensei – imagine so intensively training just three pupils? He was far too attached to the kids of this village as it was.

"I know, man, but _still…_" Izumo sighed deeply as he scanned the crowds. "I just - "

"Good afternoon, Iruka-sensei!" chirruped Rock Lee as he pushed his way through the crowds to his Jounin-sensei, and Iruka cringed internally at the boy's intrusion. His presence in their little crowd made the common bond far too obvious to ignore. Every shinobi in their selective little huddle had been orphaned by the third war – and Iruka couldn't shake the question of how many more would die in this new one. Jiraiya hadn't told him much during Kakashi's time away, but he'd made the threat undeniably clear.

"Afternoon, Lee-kun." Iruka smiled back at the boy, shaking off the sudden dread and turning quickly to Izumo. "Look, we'll talk later. Where's Kotetsu, anyway?"

"Not a clue." Izumo muttered darkly, eyes looking everywhere but Iruka. "Probably still licking his wounds over that _bitch._"

Iruka frowned at his friend's remark but wisely chose not to comment, wondering what Kotetsu could have possibly done to make things worse between the two of them. Iruka had been friends with the two inseparable shinobi since their academy days – and though they hadn't managed to remain as close as he'd have liked over the years, it was almost frightening to see his two friends so alienated from each other.

Iruka let his attention wander as his friend was pulled into a conversation with Gai and Lee, his distracted mind amazed at the nervousness displayed by the Jounin, despite their affected flippancy. Asuma was still fingering Kurenai's arm, even as they took part in separate conversations – Asuma laughing too loudly at Izumo's almost squirming discomfort, while Kurenai discussed something with a grim faced Anko and Ibiki, both perched dramatically on the fence. Gai was clutching his student's shoulder despite the teen's baffled protests, in an odd mix of support and self-reassurance. A still badly injured Raidou was using Genma as a crutch – although he was being held unnecessarily close to Genma's own torso – and the usually upbeat, flirtatious Jounin looked solemn and broody as he clung to Raidou.

Iruka watched with mild interest as Raidou and Genma spoke in snapping tones to each other, Raidou mouthing something that looked suspiciously like _stop it_ and _moron_ and _not a child_.

"I meant for the sake of_ my ribs, _you bony fuck!" Genma's voice was obviously far louder than he'd intended – the slightly shrill exclamation encouraging a peculiar moment of silence, save for the slide of fabric as the necks of offended mothers jerked around to find their new 'Example.'

"_Language!"_ Gai's voice was mortified, clamping his hands over Lee's ears, and Iruka – a _teacher –_ used to having to keep a straight face in a classroom, struggled not to laugh at all the commotion caused by one little word. He saw the sly edging of the other Jounin, and gathered in with them, making their huddle smaller, more secure, almost daring the mothers another disapproving '_tsk.'_

"Oh what I wouldn't give for a well-timed distraction!" Genma sighed, trying for casual despite his embarrassed flush. He tipped his chin up quickly to rescue the senbon that had been slipping from his teeth.

A sudden gentle breeze of chakra encouraged a small swirl of dust and leaves – announcing the presence of Team 7 as conveniently distracted mothers commented blithely on the attractive transportation jutsu – the new murmurs of '_one day…' _and_ 'such an attractive Ninjutsu…' _and the occasional _'show off!'_ far preferable to the almost malicious glares Genma had received.

"My saviour!" Genma greeted gleefully as the jutsu cleared, revealing Kakashi slouched merrily in the centre of the team, his students varying in their degrees of exhaustion – though even Naruto was panting for breath as he greeted Iruka affectionately.

"Yo!" The Copy Nin grinned, tugging insistently down on the sleeve of his jumper. Iruka smiled secretively at the action, the not-quite-subtle cover up of the fierce bite mark that _he_ had given the Copy Nin the night before. He fought the inevitable blush, paranoid of Izumo's gossip-mongering, as Kakashi continued. "It was my _prettiest _transportation! Am I late?"

"You're _always _late," growled Anko from her perch on the fence, "but you haven't missed the announcement. That's running late too."

"Oh goody," said Kakashi, resting a hand between Sakura's shoulder blades. "You can go find your mother now, if you want." Sakura gave a wan smile in response before trotting away from the group – clutching at a stitch in her side. Gai had already started screaming about the inhumanity of training his team on _This Day of All Days,_ and Kakashi – after realising his muttered '_it was only an hour'_ was being thoroughly ignored – simply pulled out his ever-present smut and began to hum cheerfully as he ignored the Green Beast.

Moments later, the Hokage appeared above the gathered crowds, on top of the tower, dignified and formal. Kakashi settled back against the fence - between Gai and Iruka - with an amused noise, while his students slouched in front of them, unnaturally quiet and _ready _somehow. Iruka wondered what Kakashi had told them to provoke such a dignified calm in the two usually boisterous shinobi.

"Citizens of the Hidden Leaf," announced Tsunade from the rooftop. She looked majestic against the blue sky – white and red formal kimono and Kage head gear almost out of character to her usual casual appearance. Iruka wondered who'd decided she should make such an impression. "I have to thank you most sincerely for gathering here today. I have information of great consequence to share, which many of you have no doubt already guessed the gist of."

Here she paused, and seemed to look straight out the crowd of Jounin. They had all stood to attention automatically at the beginning of her address – though each had seemed to grasp something to support them through their leader's unavoidable words. Asuma and Kurenai were clasping each others' hand, while Genma and Raidou were more subtle, arms looped around each other carefully. Gai held onto Lee's shoulder, while Anko clenched the fence behind her with whitening knuckles. Ibiki's fists were clenched, and even Sasuke and Naruto were stood close together. Iruka found himself wringing his hands before daring to spare a glance at Kakashi, and was shocked to find him slouching nonchalantly, still leaning casually against the fence.

"The Hidden Leaf is at war with Hidden Stone and its allies. The ANBU has been briefed and set targets to attain before the actions of our enemies spiral, but it is obvious that it is now too late to avoid the confrontation. We _must_ show that Konoha cannot be walked over, cannot be defeated, will not be destroyed!"

A shaky murmur ran through the crowds at their leader's powerful declaration; like the rest of the shinobi present, Iruka searched for propaganda in her words. He could find none, and judging from Izumo's slightly awed smirk, neither could he. Iruka had always trusted in his Hokage, because the title was a coveted one, proof of untarnishable loyalty, powerful skill. In his peripheral vision, he saw the grips of his comrades soften, become something less strained and proud. Iruka was no less panicked – and the shrill intensity of the air had only worsened with the confirmation of war – but he felt more secure, at least, for his village – for the kids.

"Until the time comes when we must take the fight to our enemies, I must ask you to continue to trust your superiors, and remain obedient to the Leaf - as you have these last few weeks, and indeed, all your lives. Thanks to our strategists' foresight, and the substantial efforts of one of our Jounin operatives over the last five weeks to infiltrate the Stone, we are confident in our reworking of battle plans, and general preparations for the next important months -"

"Five weeks?" Naruto muttered, and Iruka could see the profile of his brow pinching in concentration as Tsunade continued to talk about the 'lives that would be nobly lost' and the 'necessity of war.' Several heads turned Kakashi's way as the dates sunk into place – Anko gave a low whistle – and Iruka fought the sudden fierce urge to tackle the Copy Nin. It must've been one hell of a mission to receive such a public commendation.

Sasuke's head whipped round, dark eyes wide and young and deviously questioning. "Kakashi-sensei?"

"Hn." Kakashi gave an amused sniff at the inquisitive glances from all sides, his tone flat and ironic as he continued to mutter (much to Gai's chagrin). "That was sweet of the old Jezebel." Sasuke immediately clamped a hand over Naruto's mouth, stifling the protesting squeal.

" – so I must ask you to stay clear of the ANBU training fields until otherwise notified. Citizens of Konoha – please do not panic. Do not regret. And do not forget who we are. Konoha was the first of the Hidden Villages to stand alone. Konoha will be the _last_ to fall. You will all be more fully briefed in smaller groups as necessary. Any questions?"

There were none – and Tsunade's confident grin seemed almost feral from such a distance as she surveyed the sea of gritted teeth and set jaws. There was a storm on the horizon, but the heat wasn't about to break just yet.

* * *

The next week was a blur of preparation – the suddenly frenzied village upping their standards wherever possible – as if simply being prepared for _war_ could prepare them for the realities of it.

The Stone's jutsu – their main line of defence, according to the scrolls Kakashi had brought back with him – had been difficult to analyse, though they were slowly beginning to work out methods of fighting against it. Genjutsu users could see through many of the illusions and distraction techniques developed within the technique – as could the Sharingan and Byakugan blood limits. The main problem with the jutsu had been to find a way for Kakashi to teach the entire technique to shinobi who had never seen its effects. It took three to six shinobi to cast, maintain and activate the various levels of the jutsu, and the first time Kakashi had tried to emulate it – with the use of several clones – he'd collapsed from the over exertion.

Finally, they'd managed to dissect it, teach it, and work around it. The next step would be to teach their new methods to the commanding shinobi at least – though Kakashi and Jiraiya were insisting on giving every shinobi a practise run against the jutsu, lest the Stone refine the technique further and the Konoha forces were left without a reference point.

The higher level strategists had found their work cut out for them – and the interference from Hyuuga elders (who had expressed their considerable _doubts _in trusting the Hatake's information) had caused the ANBU to clamp down on the information, making it even more difficult for the strategists to attain the help they needed to predict the Stone's plans and decipher the intricately coded scrolls.

The Jounin and Chuunin level Kunoichi had all but finished their formal re-training, and their return to active duty coincided with the start of the male ninja's similar re-education. The forceful and teasing natures of the Jounin males, however, led to a more competitive training experience. The ANBU hound seemed to take a particular glee in tormenting Maito Gai about his footwork, while the Locust and the Bear enjoyed tag teaming on Kakashi on the few occasions he turned up in the Jounin ranks.

Gradually, Konoha managed to reach a rushed kind of equilibrium – a lull in the painful, jittering tension. War was imminent, but the week-long silence seemed totally a contradictory atmosphere to the villagers' expecting immediate disaster and full on attacks.

Gradually, Konoha calmed long enough for the reality to set in.

* * *

Tsunade wasn't a very good teacher some days. She had a tendency to frustrate easily, and get bored quickly, and now more than ever seemed distracted to the point where Sakura's questions were unheard, let alone often left unanswered.

However, Sakura was a great student, a quick study, and despite the Hokage's vague references and high expectations she fought to hold the flighty woman's interest. Sakura _wanted_ to learn, she _wanted_ to prove herself, she _wanted_ to fight and to heal, and do both with such unerring efficiency that the Haruno name would _mean_ something in the ninja world. A childish part of her still hoped that this new strength of hers would finally attract Sasuke, would finally bring him out of that false stoicism, but it was a faulty dream nowadays, one that's allure was more to do with the cool ways she could cast him aside than the old white wedding and litter of squalling heirs.

There'd be a time, once, that if Sasuke had just for a second looked to her as a woman, rather than a meek, silly little stalker, she would have given up the world. And once, she might have chosen to take these difficult lessons, and attain this new strength, to look capable in Sasuke's eyes – because Naruto may have been kidding when he said Sasuke ignored anyone who hadn't bruised him, but it didn't make him any less right. Once, Sakura might have ignored the reality of her situation and continued her childish whims and hopes and dreams – but her superiors had seemed so on edge during Tsunade's announcement, and Kakashi's cheerful calm during their training had shaken her in a way she didn't really understand – and she couldn't deny anymore that a field-able medic would be desperately needed when this war broke.

Sakura was about to get the shock of her life, but she'd proof-read for Jiraiya-sama's smutty books before she balked on her comrades – she was a student of _Hokages_, and had moved on from the times when she'd hide behind the shield of another's body. To be of use, she had to be ready. And to be ready, she needed Tsunade to get to the point.

"A good medic has to know what to look for," The Godaime drawled, flicking a pen between her fingers in bored agitation. "I'm going to teach you the basics of spotting natural body language."

Sakura had discovered that the basis of field medicine was very similar to the basis for field procedure – Kakashi had drilled them on the basics enough times for the pink haired shinobi to spot the obvious. _You look after your med-kit with the same diligence as you would your weapons_, the Copy Nin had told her team, over and over again. Often with physical aids – like tying them to a tree or thwacking them with a half-completed mission report. A shinobi might never know when a kunai needed to be used for an amputation, or when antiseptic-thread might be used as a garrotte wire.

It was much the same with other aspects of a shinobi's arsenal, including basic interrogatory and observational tactics. Sakura opened her mouth to say as much, but was cut off smoothly by Tsunade's teasing voice.

"Kakashi has no doubt taught you enough about body language to spot a muscle bunching to predict an oncoming blow, or a shift in eyesight to tell you _where_ the blow will come." Sakura flinched slightly at the Hokage's words. They weren't unkind, but Sakura must've seemed so very naïve to even begin to question the Godaime. "I want to teach you how to spot the natural way a person would walk based on their weight distribution and breathing patterns, how to tell if a comment seems out of place because of an accent or a chakra surge. Certain emotional responses can be ascertained and used to your advantage, which is always helpful in either a medical or battle situation. A _medical ninja_ needs both skills, Sakura-chan, and that is what we will work on today."

It seemed to Sakura, as she smiled encouragingly back at the Hokage, that she'd managed to hold her attention after all; and as the afternoon wore on and she was drilled with clue after hint after sign after test, Sakura decided that no matter _what_ the boys said: she'd been right all along. There was more to being a useful than just hitting things.

* * *

Lining the walls of the Tsuchikage's office, Tak stood with his peers, glaring daggers at the trembling figure in the centre of the room. Fighting the mad urge to rip the little bastard's head from his shoulders, the Stone Jounin listened as the Godaime Hokage's missive was read aloud. He could feel the tension crumbling in the air; the harsh breaths of the injured shinobi to his left compelled him to reach out to pat the other man's arm consolingly. The heavy hand of the nin behind Tak fell upon his shoulder, and the messenger's words finally began to sink through.

"The letter begins, '_Yondaime Tsuchikage-sama,'" _The messenger said, he looked horribly nervous, painfully so, his eyes were large and bright and Tak wondered if he'd ever been quite that young. The message he was clutching like a lifeline had been delivered by a bird a mere hour ago. One look at the simple, unbroken jutsu seal on the message scroll had declared its origin – the personal seal of the Godaime Hokage of the Hidden Leaf.

"'_I regret to inform you of the untimely demise of your Jounin spy, Senshi Reiko. The Kunoichi was found in breach of item 11' – _No, that's seventeen, sorry Yondaime-sama! - " The boy blushed as he stammered his apology, moving on quickly. " '_17c of the Third Shinobi War Inter-village Peace Treaty attempting to coerce or otherwise gain information of a military nature, or one deemed classified under items 30a-30r of the aforementioned treaty. Senshi Reiko was interrogated and executed on Tuesday 2nd July of this year, in the afternoon, by one of our Chuunin Operatives…'"_

A startled silence descended on the gathered Jounin – a silence not unlike their previous silence, but punctuated by an almost simultaneous intake of breath. Tak reeled, emotionally staggered. Reiko was _executed._ That much he understood. He thought he might have made some disbelieving sound – the kunoichi of his _Gennin_ team, the genius heir of the Senshi clan – had been killed in the line of duty. Fine.

But by a _Chuunin_? It was offensive, sickening, the injustice leaving a heavy taste in his mouth. The Tsuchikage's expression hadn't changed from that bland brilliance, but his claw-like hands were clenched around his sleeves, and Tak could see his wizened face tight and clenching through his rage. He'd been fond of Reiko. The Tsuchikage nodded sharply and the messenger continued.

"…_Furthermore, due to the aggressive and threatening nature concerning the treatment of my village by Hidden Stone Operatives and their affiliates – to which ends I hold the Hidden Stone wholly responsible – I suggest you are fully and consciously aware of your breach of the Peace Treaty and are too therefore be held in reckoning for any defensive actions the Hidden Leaf feels it is necessary to make…"_

"They're declaring war?" The Tsuchikage murmured; his antique moustache twitching as his lips did. Several of the Jounin smiled grimly, noting the amusement in their leader's voice, the easy confidence. Here was a man they could trust in, laughing at an enemy he told them to respect. "But they're all but defenceless. They have no allies, and have suffered more casualties these past three years than in all the fifteen previous years together. How very intriguing. Is the letter signed?"

"No, Tsuchikage-sama, the letter isn't signed; it's just stamped with Konoha's symbol." The messenger's voice was clear, but grating; the words coming out sand paper rough, too low a pitch for his age, almost. "But there's a postscript, it reads: '_Shinobi of the Stone, the Leaf gladly accepts your offer of war.'"_

"Hmmm." The Stone's leader let out a content sound, his grip loosening in his long sleeves. Tak wanted to scream, or tear things apart, but remained waiting, silently begging for the chance to revenge the lives of his team-mates. The silence was absolute; almost pondering in the easy way it seemed to flow before the Tsuchikage decided to break it. "Looks like they're not about to play dead after all."

* * *

Iruka swung his legs as he sat on his kitchen table, watching appreciatively as a half dressed Jounin padded around making an early evening breakfast. Kakashi was still too thin – even after a week of regular meals and _various _forms of workout (and even Iruka's _bones_ were smirking) – but after two nights of jumpy, hyper-awareness and a couple more of grateful clinging, Kakashi had settled back down to his routine.

He seemed so comfortable now, chewing on a banana as he rooted through Iruka's cupboards to add a large pinch of _something_ into the pan on the stove, and the Chuunin couldn't resist stretching out to run fingers over the multitude of scars on the other man's back. It was hard to see most of Kakashi's scars – he'd learnt quickly on the best way for a wound to heal was to patch it up and then leave it, and while Iruka had some pale patches on his knees from picking scabs as a kid, the feared Copy Nin didn't even have those. What Kakashi _did _have was a collage of battle wounds – easier to feel than to see on his almost colourless skin – although there was one on his collar bone that showed up beautifully when his body was flushed and mottled with the best kinds of tension, and a couple of thick, old stab wounds and slashes littering his abdomen and sides. Iruka felt like a wreck in comparison – the proof of his survival was etched in pale lines across his tanned body.

"You should cover your eye up." Iruka suggested, grinning a little as the Sharingan span once in confusion when Kakashi turned his head. Iruka wasn't sure if he was supposed to talk about the eye, but Kakashi had slept so deeply for so long after over-exhausting himself in yesterday's analysis thing that Iruka's mother-hen instincts were still in a state of flux. "Do you have that chakra to waste?"

"I'm fine." Kakashi said, tossing his head a little to shake hair from his lazy eyes. He was brandishing a spatula and Iruka didn't dare ask what he was trying to cook. "Losing chakra through my Sharingan is only an issue when I'm braced for a fight. Apparently the surge is sort of to make up for how much it'd need to activate in an Uchiha's body, but an Uchiha would have a higher chakra level to compensate anyway. Unless they sucked."

"Oh." Replied Iruka, intelligently; distracted by the neat stab-wound scar low on his left side. "Then why do you bother to cover it up all the time?"

Kakashi shrugged, a sheepish smile crawling across his face, and Iruka knew by the expression he was about to get at least _some_ truth. "Habit I guess. I blacked out a lot at first, before I could control the Sharingan. Without control it's kind of useless to an Uchiha, but it's just dangerous for anyone else. It's better to be prepared with something so temperamental. Besides, I got used to being half blind, it's an icebreaker."

Iruka chuckled at that, imagining the faceless Copy Nin using the excuse to sate his perverted tendencies. '_Oh sorry, you're breasts were standing in my blind spot.'_ There again, the excuse did sound a little too likely…

"It's just… It's uncomfortable, and having your eye in darkness all the time, it keeps you on edge." Kakashi admitted cheerfully, stabbing viciously at what _looked_ like an egg caked in… something. "I don't need to be on edge here, though. Right? It's safe here."

Iruka grinned, snagging a leg round Kakashi's own to pull him closer. For the famous Copy Nin to feel safe in Iruka's home spoke volumes. Iruka was good at layers, but the compliment was obvious – and if _that_ level of admission didn't deserve a reward then Iruka didn't know what did. The Chuunin had to lean up into the kiss – his short table pulling him down in height as Kakashi stepped teasingly back – and then forward as the heat between them climbed slowly. He bit down chidingly on Kakashi's bottom lip as that spatula came round to swat at the top of his arse, the Copy Nin's muffled laugh turning into a small groan.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this," Kakashi muttered when they broke the kiss, face dropping to Iruka's neck as two hands and a spatula skated hungrily across the Chuunin's thighs. "But lemme eat first, hmm?"

"Are you serious?" Iruka asked, voice teasing as he put a hand to Kakashi's forehead, pushing him away helpfully. "Are you sick?"

"Fooood!" Kakashi whined as he moved back to his breakfast, casting lazy, curious looks behind him as Iruka shuffled pointedly off the table and into one of the chairs around it.

"Fine, I should mark stuff anyway…" Iruka tried pouting, pulling the day's collected homework out of his bag – and would have kept it up if Kakashi's ribs hadn't felt quite so prominent under his flattered fingers.

"What would you have done if you couldn't have been a teacher?" Kakashi asked as Iruka tried to ignore the oddly delicious smells now rising from the other man's concoction as he turned up the heat. He was meeting Naruto for ramen that night, no matter how his stomach or libido protested. "I can't believe I've never asked."

"You have, a couple of times actually." Iruka tried to hide his smug grin, bending his head to read the particularly messy scrawl of one of his brighter students. "Just you're usually so drunk when it occurs to you to ask, I get halfway through my answer and you start ranting about the flea-infested evils of the under 15's."

"I do not." Kakashi scoffed, beginning to shovel the discoloured mess from his pan to a plate and settling opposite Iruka at the table. "Do I? It's hard to imagine myself ranting."

"Oh it's hysterical when you're in full swing." Iruka assured him. "I would've gone into Intelligence."

Kakashi looked up with a confused look, mouth full of breakfast, and waited for Iruka to clarify. "If I hadn't been a teacher, I would've gone into Intelligence. I hated the academy when I was there, and completed half the basic Intel training before I got bored of it. Suzume-chan carried it on the whole way, while I got distracted by the Child Psych course."

Kakashi made some interested noise, shovelling food into his mouth blissfully. He was eating at a close to normal pace, at least, compared to his usual inhalation. Iruka was surprised he didn't choke more often than he did. "Sandaime let me complete the courses and gave me higher level interrogatory training, so I could be more helpful than just another crappy teacher. The reason I get all the problem kids is because I'm the only one fully trained to spot the things they might be dealing with. He also had a few of us trained up to man the desks for certain shinobi's returns – so someone impartial could try to better gauge their mental states after particularly harsh missions."

"Well that explains a lot." Kakashi noted once he'd swallowed. Iruka looked up defensively at some teasing note in his voice. "Like why you'd be asked to play point in an ANBU controlled op."

Iruka took one look at that Cheshire grin and back-peddled swiftly. "I don't know what you're talking about. There were quite a few of us trained up, and when I say higher I don't mean _higher_ higher, just - "

"No? I ran into Genma on the way here." Kakashi tugged something from his trouser pocket – a wad of – were they photographs? Iruka felt his face flush. "Your interrogation methods are interesting…" Kakashi grinned teasingly as he fluttered about a picture of Iruka and Reiko, bodies closely pressed as Iruka fished for information. "You have a very personal touch, sensei."

"I – she – it was easier – to let her think – to let her underestimate me!" Iruka spluttered, half shocked that Genma would hand out such information – especially when Iruka was certain the senbon sucking _bastard_ knew about Kakashi's involvement with the Chuunin. "Are you mad?"

"Absolutely!" Kakashi replied enthusiastically, still leafing through the photos with that shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. "You own the standard Chuunin uniform?" Kakashi barely waited for Iruka's nervous nod as he brandished one of the first pictures Genma had taken. "But you _never_ wear it."

"When you spend your days teaching kids how to aim properly, it's best to wear a bit of padding. The Chuunin uniform's totally unsuitable for field work…"

Kakashi hummed around a mouthful of eggs, gulping it down before leering. "But it's so _tight_!"

Iruka's felt his eyes go wide, forced himself to look down at the paper he'd been marking. He heard Kakashi's content chuckle and the shift of paper as the Copy Nin shuffled through the images noisily. Iruka put a vicious line through one boy's incoherent work as he tried not to rise to the bait.

"This one's cute!" Kakashi exclaimed, sliding a picture of Iruka, Izumo and Kotetsu across the table top. It _was_ a good picture – they looked young and content – like in countless photographs Iruka had stuffed inside his childhood photo albums. Iruka hummed noncommittally. Kakashi laughed as he put another picture over the top of the three Chuunin – the group of plain clothes ANBU and Jounin surveillance teams, led by Genma, all posing drunkenly and laughing.

Iruka heard the clatter of cutlery as Kakashi finished his 'breakfast,' and quietly put away the homework he'd been marking. Looking at the picture of the two groups of friends, Iruka was struck by the fact that sooner – rather than later – they would probably be torn apart by the coming war. Whether by promotion, or trauma; death or fear – there was no guarantee that the people Iruka knew, and loved, and had spent his life with, were coming out alive.

And if that was the road his life was about to go down, Iruka decided as Kakashi settled himself gleefully on Iruka's lap, there were much more important things a man could spend his evening doing. Like making the Copy Nin flush enough to see his prettier scars.

* * *

The civilians of Konoha – many of whom did not move in the shinobi circles of camaraderie or friendship – seemed to hold grudges for far longer than their paranoid companions within the village.

Naruto had always assumed non-shinobi just didn't _understand _the ninja way of thinking, and consequently had never throughout his childhood thought quite so much of a civilian's taunt as he would a ninja's heated glare. Another theory, Inuzuka Kiba's theory, was that a ninja's typically short lifespan made a person ready to forgive, but also made for creative methods of atonement. A civilian had a lot more time over which to hold a grudge than a shinobi did, and a lot less trained imagination with which to make a point.

So it was that – despite Sasuke's reacceptance of and from the Hidden Leaf being old news – the civilians in the loop had yet to let it go.

Team 7 had been on their way to the training grounds – the boys having bumped into Kakashi on their way to meet Rock Lee and Kiba (though Naruto hadn't been _stupid_ enough to tell Sasuke that!) and skilfully coerced – through poking the Jounin repeatedly while Naruto screamed up at the masked nin – him into an impromptu training session.

The trouble had started after picking Sakura up – her civilian background meant she lived in a predominantly civilian area of the village.

An old, wizened woman had been wiping her door frames clean as Team 7 had passed, taken one look at Sasuke and launched into a scathing tirade. Kakashi had seemed more surprised at Naruto's immediate defence.

"Listen Old Lady! Sasuke may be a bastard but he's _our_ bastard – you don't know what _we've all_ been through – and you can keep your dirty old mouth to yourself!" The blonde shinobi had finished his speech by pulling at his lower eyelid and sticking his tongue out at the corner – a gesture far ruder to her generation than his own, no doubt.

The old lady had dropped her cloths and bucket, hobbling steadily towards Kakashi. She squared up to him fearlessly, her chin pointing angrily towards his chest, obvious seething as the Jounin's single, dispassionate eye barely acknowledged her presence.

"A demon! A _traitor_!" She spat at the boys, who stepped back to avoid the poorly aimed discharge. Sakura was shocked at the woman's intent dislike, though Naruto seemed vaguely unruffled. A bony finger poked Kakashi in the chest, digging into the zip of his flak jacket. "…And the _son_ of one."

Sakura watched Sasuke watch their sensei – watched him study the carefully, perfectly indolent slouch and wondered if she was the only one who could see the way her teacher's eye was narrowing in that odd sort of smirk. '_Son of a traitor?_'

The old woman placed her hands on her hips, pulling herself straight in a haughty fashion, displeased when her head barely came level to Kakashi's slouching shoulders. "Makes you wonder what's wrong with the girl?"

Naruto yelped in anger as the woman's vicious voice picked upon Sakura, who felt the cruel words keenly – how dare some old _hag_ think her team reflected so badly on Sakura, when _she _was the one who – until recently – was always and endlessly the weaker link. How dare this woman insult her team; after everything she had gone through to become a shinobi _worth _their skill!

Sasuke's eyes flitted calculatingly between the two adults; his injured pride, and resigned fury struggling against his need to maintain his dignity. Kakashi's calm remained flawless. Not moving from that lazy slouch, he turned his head back to smile cheerfully at his insulted students.

"You see?" he chirped, a sardonic darkness ringing through the cheerful tone. "It is a _wonderful_ thing how Konoha bands together so seamlessly in times of crisis, and of war!"

The old woman spluttered as Kakashi stepped around her to continue on his way, ignoring the shouted insults she flung at his retreating back. Naruto and Sasuke followed quickly after, pulling at Sakura to encourage her from where she stood, frozen in her rage.

When they had reached the village's High Street, and were settling down outside the little café Kakashi seemed to favour, Sakura dared to breathe again.

"Kakashi-sensei! You diffused that so easily!" she enthused childishly, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the solemn looks of her three boys as she tried to keep her voice steady through her anger. She focused on taking calm, steady breaths, on studying the lessons Tsunade-sama had so recently taught her, to try to curb her furious response. "You stayed so calm!"

Kakashi merely shrugged, hands still shoved inside his pockets as he ordered four teas from the hovering waiter. "Keep it down, Sakura. Konoha loves its gossip and I'd rather this didn't make the Vine."

His visible eye drifted to the boys – and Sakura followed his calculating gaze to where Naruto sat glaring furiously at a solemn, shaken Sasuke. The blonde shinobi gave a savage hiss. "You should've _said_ something to her!"

"Shut up, moron." Sasuke threw back, his tone and Naruto's quick obedience told Kakashi this was an argument they'd had many times before. One day, Naruto would learn that the Uchiha was a different sort of shinobi than himself; that Sasuke _liked _to torture himself with regret, because it was easier to accept it and go with it, than to try and fight against it. Until they figured each other out, Kakashi thought, it was probably best to just leave it.

Sakura watched her teacher as he analysed the situation, watched as he silently shifted through who knew how many nuances of emotion or intent. Kakashi's face and body language didn't alter - the lack of any outward clue being the _only_ outward clue Sakura had ever seen Kakashi give to his plotting.

"Has it been like that all month?" Kakashi asked quietly, voice much lighter than his expression suggested. Sakura knew how hard it had been for Sasuke, just over a year ago, when he'd first returned to Konoha after so long in Orochimaru's grasp. He hadn't wanted to be here – he hadn't really wanted to keep breathing – and it had taken Naruto and Kakashi weeks to even begin to make an impact on the brooding – failing – avenger. The situation hadn't been helped by the angry and betrayed villagers – and Sakura knew that the more sympathetic Jounin were _still_ calling in favours to keep the village's comments to a minimum.

Of course, without Kakashi here to continuously ensure Sasuke's reacceptance, the villagers had been slightly more…outspoken.

"Why did she call you the 'son of a traitor'?" Sasuke responded, clearly not wishing to talk about his own problems. Kakashi grunted as the waiter returned, hands shaking very slightly with suppressed anger as he gripped the cup. For a brief moment as her sensei had reached for his tea – tea that she already know he would not drink – Sakura saw the row of indentations across the underside of his gloves – he'd clenched his fists hard enough for his small nails to bite half-moons into the leather.

"Drink your tea." Kakashi gently commanded as Naruto – still strangely quiet – began to sullenly pick at the table top. Sakura felt rushed, awkward – even a little voyeuristic – as she sipped at the hot, fruity liquid. Kakashi didn't avert his eyes from the boys until they obeyed; Naruto gulping the tea down and then wincing at the sweet burn against his throat, Sasuke blowing ripples into the liquid before tasting it delicately.

Kakashi looked away finally as the silence relaxed, before continuing in a more amused tone. "Once we're finished we can go hit things."

* * *

Kakashi was late handing in his mission report. Iruka wasn't surprised, just continued chatting to Genma – he was eager to hear about Raidou's mission – the rumours of the scarred Jounin's fevered, half-conscious return last week had only intensified with the recent confirmation of war.

The silver haired shinobi finally strolled in, students in tow; he looked uncomfortable, strained somehow, and as he handed his thick, obviously detailed report to Iruka almost mechanically it was impossible not to notice Naruto's worried glaring in Sasuke's direction.

"Thank you, Kakashi-san." Iruka smiled, slightly worried – and he noticed Genma shifting curiously beside the Copy Nin, obviously as eager to find out why Team 7 were acting so soberly.

"Have you heard about Ebisu-san?" Genma asked warily, remembering hearing from Yuugao how Konohamaru idolised Kakashi's student, Naruto. "They brought his corpse in this morning."

Kakashi turned intently to face Genma, hearing Iruka gasp behind him him. "His _corpse_?" Kakashi hissed, struggling to hide his disgust – he hadn't been overly _fond_ of Ebisu, but the man had been an excellent operative. Had he fallen to an enemy so unskilled as to leave _evidence_ of the kill? Or so vicious? "That's _sick_. That's not their pattern at _all._"

"He was tracking a right bastard, though. Apparently known for taking…_ trophies_." Genma stated, lowering his voice slightly. "According to Ibiki, no one really expected him to - "

Yuuhi Kurenai's sudden entrance had both men leaning back nonchalantly – as if they hadn't been gossiping about classified information in front of lower ranking operatives mere seconds before. The fierce kunoichi headed intently towards Kakashi, a jerked nod of greeting shaking him immediately into Shinobi Robot mode. Genma straightened up from his slouch on the front of the mission desk, alert at the Copy Nin's back.

"I've been meaning to catch you since you got back from your mission – I need to talk to you about something." Her crimson eyes took in the other shinobi, the barely contained curiosity of the three students and the more practised attentiveness in her peers' eyes. "In private."

Kakashi hesitated, throwing a questioning, unnoticed glance at Sasuke. "It's personal?"

"Very much so, Kakashi-sempai."

Genma sat back down, eyes still trained on the tense exchange before him. Kakashi didn't say anything for a long moment, scrutinising the woman carefully. "I won't get involved in your personal messes, Kurenai-san."

"It's my body. My health, I mean. Please, Kakashi?"

"I'm not prepared to play councillor Kurenai, and your eyes tell me that's what I'm going to end up doing." Kakashi's words were cold, but Kurenai's expression never faltered. "Unless it's something that would jeopardise our missions - "

"It'll jeopardise a hell of a lot more than just a mission if this gets out, Kakashi!" Kakashi raised an eyebrow at the woman's demanding outburst. She was far less demure towards her team-mates than she appeared in public, yet he knew from experience she had no trouble using her abilities to get her own way. For Kurenai to _ask_…

Sasuke glowered slightly, muttering something about unprofessional attitudes and Jounin brain damage. Kakashi made some vague gesture towards Naruto, who slapped Sasuke round the head, earning himself a left-hook to the stomach – courtesy of Sakura's old knee-jerk reflexes.

In the time it had taken the three to stop arguing – and for Iruka and Genma to take their eyes from the walking disaster zone the three habitually created – Kakashi had managed to take Kurenai by the arm and… disappear.

"WHAT!" Naruto all but wailed. "If she was in trouble _we_ could've helped!"

"If _she_ was in trouble, Naruto-kun," started Iruka, "She would've taken care of it herself; Kurenai-san is an excellent ninja."

There was an oddly thoughtful look on Sakura's face as she clamped a hand round Naruto's mouth to drag him from the mission room, Sasuke following brusquely after, neither paying any mind to the amused glances of the older shinobi.

x

Yuuhi Kurenai found herself, arm still held in Kakashi's firm grip, standing on the stone head of the fourth Hokage.

"Kurenai." The one word was permissive, curious, expectant. All the things the genjutsu expert had hoped for from the infamous Copy Nin, her team-mate.

"You're the only person I know that will respect my wish to keep this secret." The challenge in her voice was clear.

"You have my word."

Kurenai took Kakashi's hand, placed it over her abdomen, waited. Years of working with the medical genius Rin, and then later from his training in field medicine for both ANBU teams and his Gennin tutoring, made Kakashi almost automatically send out a chakra flare, searching for anything that was amiss. His dark exposed eye widened almost comically when he received one back.

"I think…" Kurenai's usually fierce eyes were uncertain. She coughed a little to clear her throat. "There's really no doubt at all…"

"Is it Asuma's?"

Kurenai's snapping response was immediate. "There's no one _else_, if that's what you mean!"

"Have you -"

"He doesn't _want _a baby. _I_ don't want a baby! Bring a _child_ into _this_ world? This war?" Her eyes were bright, pleading again, but Kakashi couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. Sharp nails dug into Kakashi's hand, through the soft leather covering his palms.

"What do you want me to say, Kurenai?" Kakashi held back his shock, his sympathy. He kept his voice as calm as possible, trying to soothe her, trying to allow her control.

"…Tell me what to _do?_" The rare vulnerability on her face shocked Kakashi deeply, his thoughts racing for his comrade. "I don't know where to go – who to go to without the whole fucking village finding out… the whole fucking _world_…"

"Go to Tsunade-sama. She's discreet."

"But her staff are _not." _She was hissing now, and Kakashi felt like he'd spent his life with his head in the sand. He wouldn't want a child either. "You can't know, Kakashi, you can't possibly know the pressure they put on you to just _deal _with these things – look at Tsume-san! I have to _fight,_ there's no time to raise a child of my own, do you understand?"

Kakashi _did_ understand, but what she was asking for wasn't necessarily what she _wanted, _and he didn't want to bear the blame of her loss. "What do you think I can do about this?"

"I was good friends with – with Rin." Kurenai couldn't look at Kakashi's face as she said the medic's name name, refused to acknowledge the imminent flash of pain. "At least, for a while. She told me about a mission you took – In Wind Country – involving the Daimyo's daughter and…" A long pause followed her words, and she could almost see those quick little cogs turning in her comrade's brain. He was silent for a long minute, before heaving a quick, decisive sigh.

"Alright… Gai has been asked to deliver a message to the Kazekage about our current problems. The Godaime's hoping that the Sand will agree to watch our backs no matter what the Stone offer their potential allies. Nobody will think twice about you leaving the Leaf if Gai formally asks for a second and suggests you. You can decide what to do on the travel."

"I don't want anyone else to _know_." Kurenai insisted, voice rising again.

"Nobody else _will_ know, Kurenai!" Kakashi cut her off sharply. "You'll suggest he delivers the message alone, offering to stake out Wind Country to try and gather an idea of Stone's involvement. If you still… if you're _sure_…you'll then visit a woman who owes me a favour, and she'll take you where you want to go. You'll need a full day's rest at least – if he agrees to work for you, he never liked ninja, so you should lose the hiate-ate – and you'll no doubt be sore, so make sure you've got a convincing enough cover story for Gai." He waited for his offer to sink in. "That's the best I can offer you, Kurenai-chan."

She was silent for too long. It made the air too heavy, made Kakashi feel crowded and tense. Eventually, she drew a shaky sigh and looked up with a confident smile. "Thank you, Kakashi-sempai."

"Kurenai," he said again, some vague guilt stirring underneath it all. "Think about speaking to Asuma-kun. I won't tell him anything, but if he asks I won't lie to him. I owe him that much. So do you."

She grinned widely at him, a little shakily. She never really expected him to help. "It's taken care of."

* * *

Ebisu's funeral was held as dusk settled on Konoha, the quiet almost-night maintaining an eerie atmosphere that suited the man well. Iwari's had been held that morning, and had been warmer, easier, full of human grief. Ebisu's seemed cold in contrast – the sobbing mourners were stifled and grey in constant peripheral vision, the family and comrades were inclined to dignified condolences, and stoic pride.

Unlike Iwari's, this wasn't a large funeral, no passers-by lingered on the fringes of the congregation, wondering who they had lost and gasping at the unexpected, almost unimportant name. Iwari had just been starting out his career as a Jounin; Ebisu had been forging a line for many years. His wasn't an extravagant service by any means - just big enough to leave a mark, small enough to still be intimate.

Ebisu hadn't been popular, but he'd been respected, trusted – by the Jounin ranks _and_ the Sandaime – and that was enough for him to have made a mark upon the village. Many of the Jounin had been present for the cenotaph engraving, earlier that day, the short ceremony of inscribing yet another name to that list holding a strange sense of importance for the more experienced field shinobi. However, only those close to Ebisu had felt the need to attend the funeral, with some exceptions. Naruto had insisted on showing his support for his friend – the little boy who called him _brother_ and who he had become strangely protective of, over the years – and Kakashi had demanded that the rest of the team should go too. Iruka had gone for his students' sakes – this would be the third father-figure that Konohamaru had lost.

Listening to Ebisu's civilian sister's affectionate eulogy, Iruka found himself clutching at Konohamaru's shoulder, mind racing as he realised with every passing seconds the details that could remind Konohamaru of everyone else he'd ever lost. At the back of the crowd Naruto was saying something to Kakashi, whose eye never left Ebisu's headstone, and Udon and Moegi were clinging awkwardly to their team-mate and each other.

Iruka hadn't thought much of the man while he'd been alive. Growing up, Ebisu had always been the perfect shinobi. He'd never had time for fun or games or pranks or friends, instead remaining always rigid, strict, constantly bettering himself and never happy with what he had. Iruka had resented it, in a way. He'd resented the self-importance that lent him the arrogance to talk down to the lower ranks – as if _choosing_ a suitable career instead of vying to push past one's limits was a degrading, or cowardly action. As if being a Chuunin was a wasteful exercise.

But Konohamaru was a product of the man's strict teaching as much as a product of Iruka's own – and Konohamaru was a bright, light-hearted, deeply affectionate boy who struggled to improve himself for the good of the village. Konohamaru was so much like Naruto, his determination and pure courage to stand up for what he believed in – what his grandfather had believed in – giving him his greatest and most patient source of strength.

Iruka had misjudged Kakashi at first, because of the simple arrogance that was Kakashi-at-a-distance, the man's seeming nonchalance in regards to the lives of his team – lives he protected fiercely and resolutely, lives that had been taught by example to do the same for each other (at least, when they weren't trying to kill each other) – so was it so hard to believe that he may have misjudged Ebisu as well?

Iruka looked back in time to notice Kakashi gently guiding his student's shoulder – and while Sasuke and Sakura never moved, Naruto quickly appeared at the front of the crowd to stand at Konohamaru's shoulder. The Gennin was clinging to Iruka now, left fist clenching in the fabric of the Chuunin's sleeve as he scrubbed at his face with the other hand. Moegi let out a sob, rushing back to her parents where they stood respectfully to the side.

Iruka leant down next to the boy, smiling up at Udon as permission for him to rejoin his own parents. He rubbed soothingly at the Gennin's back, before speaking. "Konohamaru-kun?"

Konohamaru made a tight sound of protest; wet, furious eyes glaring at the headstone as he listened to a woman mourn a brother who had meant the world to _his_ team. Iruka recognised that sorrow, and felt more helpless than ever.

"It doesn't mean much to us, now," whispered Iruka, holding Konohamaru tightly against his grief. "But Ebisu-san would have been proud to die the way he did, for our village, for the safety of his precious team…"

Konohamaru didn't reply, so Iruka didn't continue, just remained crouching in the dirt until Ebisu was safely in the ground and the other mourners had moved away.

"Naruto." Kakashi's deep voice rumbled behind them, and Iruka found himself looking up at the Jounin as his students did. "We should leave be."

"Sure, sensei," replied Naruto, cheerful grin as unfazed as ever as he turned back to beam at the mourning Gennin, thumping him affectionately on the back. "Konohamaru! Don't worry!"

"I won't." Konohamaru growled, and Iruka wondered at the layers of bravado between the two boys – Naruto's eyes were too obviously concerned for his Gennin friend, however unimpaired his grin. "No one was better than Ebisu-sensei."

Kakashi gave the kid a long look, and Iruka unconsciously braced both himself and the ex-student in his grip for whatever monumentally idiotic wisdom the Copy Nin would choose to impart. "Stealth and concealment were Ebisu-san's expertise, though he was often too strict where it didn't count, and found it difficult to adjust a plan or strategy according to sudden events. Nevertheless, Ebisu-san was a truly excellent shinobi."

Iruka had felt Konohamaru's instinctive bristle at Kakashi's unemotional, professional critique of Ebisu. He knew that Konohamaru was probably already idealising the man in his mind's eye, making him noble, perfect, a hero. He felt the tension in the boy's shoulders as he tried to work through the uncaring analysis the Copy Nin had thrown out, and Iruka realised with a shock that he'd merely been repeating Naruto's own consolation – Ebisu had proved himself, even the famous Sharingan Kakashi thought so – surely that would ease Konohamaru's mind?

"It's alright," Iruka whispered as the boy's tension released suddenly, tugging the smaller form into his arms – the way he had at Sandaime's funeral, the way he had for so many students over the last few years. He smiled gratefully up at the Copy Nin as he pulled Naruto away, leaving Konohamaru to mourn. "It's alright!"

It was only about to get worse, Iruka realised, as comforting hushes fell effortlessly from his lips. Konohamaru sobbed into his black top, and Iruka realised too many things.

The graveyard was horribly quiet, the breeze chilling as the dusk settled in its final dominion over the day, and Iruka wondered if all shinobi just grew used to death. Wondered how - and when his comrades had taken to heart a lesson he had so obviously missed.

* * *

**End of Chapter 16!**

**Thanks to: **Telosphilos, Shock, and Alana!

Hey-Diddle-Diddle: If ffn let me use asterisks I'd glomp you! XD I can't thank you enough for your support! To be honest, I didn't really like Ebisu that much myself, but it's like what you were saying about Gai way back. I figure the only way to like them is to find a personality right? (and to be fair, I did ask _everyone_ I knew was online to give their impression of Ebisu so I could grasp him a little better XD)

QoV/Alitta: Thanks so much! I'm hoping to make Iruka awesome without being over the top, I mean, he is a Chuunin, but I'm playing with Jounin, you know? Hopefully this chapter has helped that? I'm glad you liked the Ebisu bit! I was unsure about his character, so I'm really flattered you mentioned it :) Thanks again XD

Sna: Thanks so much for the advice, you're a wonder! And don't feel bad, EVERYONE whined about the puppies, heehee. I'm glad you liked the Jiraiya/Tsunade bit – Jiraiya's sooo much fun to write, as I'm sure you know! Thanks again XD

Sorviball: Thank you so much! Especially for your comments about the interrogation and Shikamaru! I'm glad you felt it came through alright XD. I'm glad you liked the explanation as well! Thanks again XD

Nezuko: I really can't thank you enough for your encouragement, you know? I don't know what to say, so I'm just going to hope you're still feeling much better and having fun writing the chapters of your own amazing stories :) I'm glad you liked your gift XD

Chibi-libra810, eloquencelost, Azamiko, Elfiepike, Oboro, Tami, Night-Owl123, BlurredOasis, JMJV, GoldenRat, Jemiul, Phobos1, SugarhighsP (thanks :)), Alana Hikari Chan, FireDraygon, Esther, Fuhrer(for your support and stalking XD), Kanonriddle, Smallpox Plum and Smoking Panda!


	17. 17

**Notes:** So sorry that this has taken so long to get up here! A month to the day! Eek! For those that don't know my computer crashed and I was on holiday so the chapter has been re-written from scratch, or it may have come a bit quicker, sorry about that! I'm afraid I can't guarantee a quick update for chapter 18 either, as I'm starting university in the next few weeks, and as exciting as that is, it's also an important step that I'm sure you all understand comes before fanfic! XD

**Thanks to everyone who's offered their support and critique for this story and my other one-shots! **It means a lot to me that you'd take the time! Thank you.

Extra thanks to Telosphilos and Alana, for beta reading and naming awkward charactersXD

* * *

Being the Hokage was an honour and a privilege. The opportunity to defend one's village as its leader, to die for a village that inspired such loyalty, dedication and ability, was something Tsunade and her forebears held in great esteem.

There were downsides, though, to being the head of such a capable village; and Tsunade found that her time was not spent aiding the village's shinobi and citizens as she would have liked. Instead, she found herself buried by paperwork on a daily basis; responsible not only for the wellbeing of every life within the village but also for every client that walked through her door. The need to maintain a viable income – especially during difficult political times was demanding, and the Godaime was almost certain that if she had to listen to one more arrogant, helpless, cowardly little toss-poss _demand_ the dedication of _her_ shinobi, she was going to teach them exactly how her legendary status had come about.

When Saratobi-sensei had first become Hokage, and began to whine about the masses of paperwork and boring meetings to his three genius students, Tsunade had always scoffed, certain that he was simply trying to get out of doing any _real_ work. Truth was, she found herself relating to the old pervert more now than she ever had.

She longed for students gullible enough to rope into holding some of the more tedious meetings; but unfortunately Shizune's moral high-ground was untarnishable, and somewhere along the way Sakura had inherited Kakashi's stubborn streak. To make matters worse, Jiraiya had taken it upon himself to 'help out' and Tsunade watched jealously as he moved easily amongst the ranks of her shinobi, ensuring their wellbeing between subtly helping to train the more stubborn ones.

The melodious chatter of birds filled her office as they passed the window of the Hokage's Tower, breaking through the streams of golden sunlight falling teasingly upon the elegant blue garments of Konoha's latest would-be client. It truly was a gorgeous day outside… and Tsunade was _stuck_ in a _meeting!_

"Tsunade-sama." The client, Kimura Kojiro, was a Lower Daimyo of one of the northern towns of fire Country, lean and pale – his sickly colouring making his thinning hair look ill placed on his head. His long, dark beard was streaked with grey, old fashioned and badly kept. Tsunade imagined him as the type to mimic the great leaders of the past, in some odd attempt to equate himself with the regal nature of others. She plastered a polite smile across her face and rose to respond to his overly-formal bow.

"Kimura-dono. That you would visit Konoha yourself is a rare honour," He smiled slickly at the Hokage's formal greeting, and she wondered if he realise how false he seemed. Many people outside of the Hidden Villages regarded shinobi in a poor light – a paid assassin to someone with no knowledge of shinobi culture seemed like a cold and horrifying prospect. Despite this, most clients tended to make an effort to control their mistrust when actually _speaking_ to the most powerful shinobi in the village.

"Tsunade-sama," The man straightened, tugging at his elaborate garments in a recognisable attempt to look confident and unruffled. "I have a request of great importance. However, I have heard your village has been refusing clientele of late so thought it best to come along _myself_…"

Kojiro continued to lecture her about business methods, how to gain full profit from a venture and how to avoid letting well known standards slip. The Hokage tuned him out, watching the play of light on his balding head as he obviously tried to appear knowledgeable about the goings on of Fire Country, bringing up names and dates as if these famous people were his personal friends; as if this would impress the most powerful woman in the allied villages.

"Kimura-dono!" Tsunade held up a hand for quiet. "I'm afraid my shinobi are terribly overworked as it is. May I suggest you talk to the relevant authorities within the capital and take their advice? I assure you that many of the cases we are asked to solve are often seemingly simple matters that could quite easily be solved through other, more _civil_ means."

She watched as his pale face turned a blotchy, ruddy colour, clashing with the deep, elegant blue of his clothing. The Lower Daimyo spluttered slightly, his company (low grade bodyguards, Tsunade decided) shuffling protectively around him.

"And I assure _you _that this is a case worthy of less civil means." Spat Kojiro, his fist rising emphatically as he spoke. Tsunade sniffed disbelievingly, unable to hold in her disbelief. "My daughter has been kidnapped by foreign shinobi, and I want her returned to me immediately!"

"My apologies, Kimura-dono. I understand your concern, but if a shinobi kidnapped your daughter without cause it was likely for the benefit of a client of their own. If you received no ransom note, or have no information regarding the kidnapper, then I'm am sorry to say she is more than likely… that it is likely she has not survived." Tsunade could see the simple swirling of the Daimyo's fury; she watched its pattern flash beneath the streams of sunlight still dancing on his skin. "Forgive me for being so blunt with you, sir; but without more information we can do nothing."

"He was a foreign ninja. His headband had an insignia that resembled a blotch, or so I am told. He carried a large wooden staff, symbols carved into it – Hokage-sama, money is no object. It has been more than six weeks since I last heard from my daughter. I have to know what happened to her, either way."

"Six weeks?" Tsunade muttered, considering carefully. Just over six weeks ago Team Gai had been attacked by a foreign ninja with a decorated staff. Kakashi had been moving to stone, and although his almost obsessively meticulous reports had not mentioned any kidnapped children, it may still bring Konoha closer to understand the Stone's plans…

"We will accept the case, Kimura-dono, but can promise you nothing." Tsunade stated, bowing her head in a parting gesture as she moved to leave the room. It was high time she got out in the sunlight – she should probably find out what Jiraiya had managed to destroy in the last few hours anyway.

"Thank you, Tsunade-sama." He bowed several times in gratitude, snapping his fingers to produce a coin pouch from one of his bodyguard's pockets. "Thank you."

"Shizune here will be able to give you an idea of the cost of such a mission in such busy times. Please answer any question she may have in as much detail as possible." Tsunade spoke over her shoulder as she headed for the door, pausing briefly to grin encouragingly at the overly formal Daimyo. "My shinobi will do their best for you, Kimura-dono!"

Kojiro grinned a little shakily, and Tsunade began to plot.

* * *

Preparing for war meant maintaining a difficult balance. The decision whether to concentrate on re-training capable soldiers, or sustain the training of the less experienced was a hard one for Konoha to make.

What with training himself and the brats for the demands of shinobi secret warfare, helping out on the strategic side of things following the success of his preliminary analysis of the Stone's jutsu, and coupled with his ANBU and Jounin responsibilities; Kakashi was feeling overworked before he'd even started.

As a child, war had been all Kakashi had known, and he hadn't needed to be retrained or re-taught the way his brats' generation had to now be. Kakashi had been raised as a soldier, not as some kid who might maybe one day possibly have to go to war, and his childhood lessons had been about survival, and attack. How to smother debilitating emotional responses; how to survive, no matter what eventually might arise; how to keep warm and safe without any tell-tale signs of presence, like a fire, or a camp.

His teachers had always called the classic survival methods 'tell-tale,' because all shinobi were taught how to do them, so they al knew how to look out for them. The thought probably hadn't crossed the kids' minds.

The strategic preparation wasn't something Kakashi took to well. He preferred to assess a situation and go with it, rather than over-plan and work himself into a pre-war frenzy before the first knife had been thrown. He was certain that once the village got back into the motions of war it'd all straighten out, be _normal _again, but the Copy Ninja felt uncomfortable in his own skin. As if he were waiting for something to go wrong so they could start to fix it, rather than float in this odd suspension he was currently bobbing around in. Then again, Kakashi had felt uncomfortable in his own skin for longer than he cared to remember.

So it was that – after a gruelling hour of assessing the Stone's jutsu for the umpteenth time – Kakashi found himself strolling to Team 7's meeting spot, feeling far too lazy to surprise them in any flashy manner. The sweet sound of their bickering reached his ears before they came into view, and he finally found them huddled around what looked like a single sheet of paper, or photograph.

The three were so intent on their unintelligible argument that neither one of them noticed as Kakashi crept up behind Sasuke, peering sneakily over his shoulder to whisper confidentially. "What are you looking at?"

Naruto let out a garbled war-cry in shock, Sasuke flushing a bright pink as he stuffed the photograph into a pocket. _Such a shame it was in my blind spot, _thought Kakashi, as he watched the surprised reactions of his team. _That looks like some good gossip._

"YOU'RE LATE!"

"I was _this_ close to enlightenment." Kakashi dropped his voice to a bitter muttering. "Stupid Gai."

When Sakura and Naruto's habitual screech didn't reach Kakashi's ears he looked up warily. All three were wearing a speculative, pinched expression. Sasuke in particular looked like he'd swallowed a very confused lemon. There was a facial expression he'd have to work on.

"Kakashi-sensei…" Sakura asked quietly, bringing up what Kakashi couldn't possibly know was the Rookie Nine's latest fascination. "Kakashi-sensei, do you believe in true love?"

Sakura's gentle, seemingly innocent question put Kakashi's teeth on edge. The calculating, _specific _look Sasuke shot him as his faced relaxed slightly made it _so_ much worse. Naruto's jaw clenched as he struggled to look indifferent and, for once, Kakashi knew _exactly_ how he felt.

"You know, Sakura-chan," He struggled to see why she would ask this now – it wasn't the first time she'd asked silly, girly things, but it had been a long while since she'd come to _him _with them. "I haven't really given it much thought."

"But Kakashi-sensei!" Yelled Naruto, giving up his pretence and joining in quite cheerfully. "You must've been human _once_. You know, before you were a pervert!"

Sasuke's head dropped in slight defeat as Naruto finished his sentence, missing the way the Copy Nin backed away involuntarily from Sakura's nervous giggle. Her face reddened as she grinned mock-comfortingly, and Kakashi recognised the look as the one she used when she was caught red handed doing something she shouldn't. Like the time they'd stalked him for days on end, just to try to get a glimpse of _beneath_ the underneath.

"No, wait - I mean," Naruto began, obviously misinterpreting Sakura's abashed face for her violent face – Sakura's expressions were all quite off-putting, Kakashi reasoned; it came of studying under Tsunade, he was certain of it. "If you were a teenager; what would you do if you loved someone, but they loved someone else?"

Kakashi pretended to mull it over, admittedly only mildly interested in what the kids really wanted to know. He automatically attributed it as some odd backlash from their past little love triangle; although they'd come so far from those days, after everything they'd been through for (and because of) each other, in their little world _anything_ was possible – Kakashi had learned _that_ early on.

"When I was a kid I didn't have time for…" Kakashi searched for a phrase that wasn't _'stupid crush'_. "…personal relationships."

Three sets of eyes narrowed shrewdly, leaving Kakashi with the distinct feeling that they knew something he didn't.

"Then who was the girl in the photograph?" Naruto's blunt confusion was answered with the Copy Nin's own. Sasuke very casually kicked Naruto in the shin, but couldn't stop himself inching forwards slightly.

"Shaa…" Three pairs of eyes watched Kakashi's hand as it gestured vaguely; searching for whatever witty comment Kakashi would no doubt try to distract them with. "What photograph?" The Copy Nin asked as if he knew _exactly_ what photograph, watching as their faces dropped adorably.

"Let's start training." Kakashi allowed himself an evil grin as he all but skipped off towards the forest. "We've got a lot to get through today."

x

Kakashi took the kids through simple tracking manoeuvres, making sure they understood the basics before he taught them other ways to track a person. Throughout the afternoon, he had them chasing each other and himself around the village; much to the villagers' chagrin. When they had finally had enough – and their teacher had finally taken all he could of Naruto's hungry whinging – they headed to Ichiraku's.

Finally, Sakura couldn't take anymore, and turned to her boys with an expression at once resolute and flushed with guilt. "Kakashi-sensei," she started, jaw set as Naruto nodded encouragingly. "I've decided on my first question; and remember you _have _to tell the truth!"

Kakashi looked delighted as he hauled himself comfortably into a stool at the ramen stand's counter. "And it's only taken you a couple of months! Go ahead, Sakura!"

"Why are you and Gai-sensei rivals?" She asked, eyes flashing dangerously at the promise of finally confirming some part of the gossip that not even Ino-pig could! "I mean; how did the rivalry come about?"

"That's _it_?" laughed Kakashi, splitting his chopsticks with a concentration he rarely displayed for any serious purpose. "Well it started with Yondaime-sensei…"

Kakashi's story lasted through all twelve bowls of Naruto's ramen, and while incredibly revealing (Sakura couldn't wait to tell TenTen the almost frightening parallels between her sensei and Lee-san – she'd grown quite close to the kunoichi over the years of Lee's stalking her) didn't once mention a girlfriend, or even a female member of either one of their teams. Kakashi had mentioned another boy, a team-mate from his Chuunin days, even if not by name, but not a word he said solved the mystery of the _Girl in the Photograph._

Sakura sighed, wondering what question she could ask that would explain the medic from the pictures Lee had taken from Gai. On Sasuke's coercion, Team 7 had decided not to ask Kakashi anything directly about his original team-mates – and they'd recognised the girl from the earlier picture Naruto had found of Team Yondaime – but now the not knowing was driving Sakura mad.

_Looks like I'm back to square one,_ thought Sakura, as she listened to her sensei's rare, genuine amusement. On the bright side, she figured, Sasuke's pleased little grin confirming her suspicions as she remembered the many questions the Copy Nin had found some quiet way to avoid answering; they'd finally found a part of Kakashi's life that he was happy to share.

* * *

Izumo's first Jounin mission was like nothing he'd ever known before. He knew he'd find meeting the new standards difficult; he'd spent so many years as a Chuunin – so many years with Kotetsu – that the formulaic routines of C and B Class missions came naturally. Relearning his own methods of approaching a situation, and discovering how to fight alongside another nin's approach – based on their radically different experiences in the field – was a lot harder than he'd thought it'd be.

He had been partnered with Matarashi Anko to learn the new ropes, and Izumo was certain that no other nin could have been more difficult to deal with, or different to all that he'd previously known. Anko had been taught by the most skilled of the Sannin – by Orochimaru himself – and the knowledge of that made Izumo nervous in a way he was certain he should not have been.

On a mission, Anko was swift and silent and terrifyingly accurate – like so many of the Jounin – and confronted with such a radically different version of the kunoichi he knew, Izumo found himself struggling to keep up with Anko's current, furious chase. She was snarling silently; lips pulled back in a hateful grimace as she turned mid-lope to check on Izumo's progress. He was keeping pace alright – but her effortless multitasking fazed him. He'd known the upper ranks were miles ahead of the game in terms of skill – but he'd never really _seen_ a Jounin level battle, let alone expected to ever take part in one

Izumo snapped back to the present chase, cursing himself for allowing his mind to wander, and sped up slightly to try and better observe the almost idle way that Anko covered her tracks while maintaining speed. It seemed to Izumo that she was using only the basics – he assumed that the more common dust scattering jutsus or even a chakra-aided back sweep were wasteful to Jounin who couldn't be sure what they were about to face. Still, Izumo thought, it was almost disappointing to see no awesome high-level jutsu being used for the task.

She dropped back a little, gesturing for him to run close. Their feet chipped branches in unison as she whispered instructions into his ear. "There're more than I thought. Too many more. There's no point trying to avoid the ambush now, you're gonna have to fight with me."

Filled with a sudden, surprising trepidation Izumo began to protest, still maintaining her speedy pace. "You'll need better back-up than me if -"

"Don't be a fucking idiot, Izumo!" Anko spat, turning fierce violet eyes briefly his way before they flickered in a circular motion, protecting her flanks. "You weren't promoted for shits and giggles. Just stick to the basics, and don't be a hero, and we'll get on just fine. On my mark."

His heart was pounding in his ears as he followed her lead – dropping silently to the forest floor where they could better defend themselves from aerial attacks. Izumo couldn't understand why he was responding so badly, like some rookie Gennin – it wasn't like he'd never fought before! It sounded cliché, it sounded pathetic, but Izumo's pulse was racing, his body was starting to itch from the fabric of his uniform, skin hypersensitive and uncomfortable from perspiration.

It was almost inevitable now that any ANBU teams seen leaving Konoha would be ambushed, and Izumo and Anko's mission had been to remove as much attention as possible from the ANBU operatives by drawing it towards themselves. The plan had worked only too well, and now it seemed that they were faced with far worse odds than they'd expected.

They stood back to back in silence, tense and unprepared. "C'mon…C'mon!" He heard Anko whisper, could practically feel her eyes darting around the clearing. "Waiting's the worst…"

Anko didn't have to wait long, as several shadows barrelled towards them, appearing from nowhere and immediately firing off ninjutsu aided weapons that the Leaf Jounin – finding themselves surrounded – couldn't dodge. Izumo fought against the barrage as best he good, but the furious attacks of the enemy shinobi left little room for the Konoha nin to formulate a decent defensive plan.

Anko hissed some garbled curse as she formed hand seals, kicking dust up to try and disguise the exact moves she was making. Izumo went through the motions of a quick wind jutsu, trying to help without wasting too much chakra on a disguising manoeuvre.

Izumo missed out on whatever Anko did – his guarded position at her back only exposing him to a brief flash of light and several pained noises from behind. The newly promoted shinobi quickly looped wire around the handles of his kunai, swinging the weapons mindlessly to create a little more room to manoeuvre in. He form a simple hand seal as pulled out a Weapons Scroll, ignoring an enraged roar as the swung kunai caught one of the enemy shinobi on the face. Izumo sent a multitude of needles and knives from the scroll, taking out several of the nin and – apparently – clones from around him.

"They're using _bunshin_." He shouted above the roar of whatever Anko was defending them against. He turned to see her stumbling through hand seals, braced her against his back as she stumbled slightly, knees giving out. Izumo could see a tear in her coat, hints of crimson seeping from some wound, and he rushed to maintain his weapons jutsu as enemy shinobi ran to fill the opening in their attack.

Anko screamed some jutsu and thrust her hands forward; two enormous snakes hurtling from her sleeves with a vicious hiss – one that Izumo would dream about – and tearing the throats of the enemies bearing down on her. Izumo turned back top his own fight, slicing the throat of a Stone Nin with a large shuriken before he'd even thrown it. He used the momentum of the twist to send it tearing off into the trees – barely missing its second target.

Izumo wasn't sure how many enemies they'd started with, but only three remained, charging at the two Leaf nin in concert. Izumo rushed at two of them, hoping to draw attention away from his injured comrade – and out of the corner of his eye saw how she crouched low to the ground as soon as he had no more support.

The Stone Nin fought dirty – pulling at Izumo's hair and getting stabbed deep into the eye for his trouble. As he flopped lifelessly to the ground, his comrade sent a formidable kick towards Izumo – or, more specifically, towards Izumo's groin. The chakra aided kick felt like nothing so much as a couple of tons of bricks, and Izumo slumped immediately as the pain registered.

"Nice dodge!" the enemy huffed sarcastically, unable to mask his sympathetic flinch as he realised exactly _where_ his kick had landed. He must've paused for a moment too long, as Izumo heard a scream of pain as Anko's knife tore into the soft underside of the Stone Nin's knees. Anko reached up from her own crumpled position on the forest floor to slash at the enemy's neck before he could react, successfully defeating the last of the ambush.

"You OK?" Anko's voice was hoarse as she hauled herself to her back, lying next to Izumo and observing his foetal position on the ground. "You did great, Newbie. You know that, right?"

Izumo just whimpered in gratitude before blissfully passing out.

* * *

Hagane Kotetsu stood alone in the Hokage's office, waiting awkwardly for his latest mission briefing. He stared idly into the rich veneer of Tsunade's desk, noting how his image blurred and distorted as it mingled with the shadows of the papers and heavy books sprawled haphazardly about on the desk.

The office door swung open forcefully, and Kotetsu straightened attentively as Jiraiya stormed through the door, immediately perching on a clear section of the desk. "Jiraiya-sama," Kotetsu bowed respectfully, unsure. "I was expecting the Godaime-sama?"

"The Hokage is otherwise occupied, Kotetsu-san." Jiraiya's grin was tight and frightening. "She asked me to have a little chat with you on her behalf."

Kotetsu swallowed to move the sudden lump in his throat, shifting nervously as Jiraiya's beady eyes fixed on Kotetsu's. "How can I help, Jiraiya-sama?"

"It should be obvious to you by now that Kamizuki Izumo has been promoted to the Jounin ranks." He waited for Kotetsu's brief nod. "Yet you haven't once enquired about why he was chosen instead of you? You don't seem bitter about it all, despite your matching ability in most fields, and the length of time you have been working together. Your success rate is excellent, as you know. It would be natural to wonder why we have now chosen to separate such an effective and competent team as yourselves?"

"It would, Jiraiya-sama." Kotetsu agreed, wary of the Sannin's answering smirk. "I can only assume the Hokage has her reasons."

"How loyal of you, Kotetsu-kun, and correct." Jiraiya chuckled, shifting forward, and for the first time Kotetsu thought he could see a glimpse of why the Sannin were so feared outside of Konoha. Jiraiya's wild appearance and expressive features could be truly menacing. "Tell me, then, why you chose to play such double edged tactics in your assessment of the spy, Senshi Reiko?"

Kotetsu was silent, unsure just what this legendary ninja was getting at. Jiraiya continued carefully. "You see, it strikes me as very strange that you should fool your friends into believing in your extremes of – let's call it vanity – in such a carefully structured manner. Why allow Umino Iruka to make such independent judgements when you may have saved time by working together? Shiranui-san mentioned that your 'infatuation' seemed over the top, even by your standards, and has caused some distance within your personal relationships?"

Kotetsu cleared his throat, horribly conscious of Jiraiya's expectant look. "I felt that – I thought it would be more… concise to have separate accounts of the spy's infiltration."

"How interesting." Jiraiya leant back, all menace suddenly gone from his form and Kotetsu found himself breathing again. "So it would have nothing to do with Kamizuki Izumo's feelings for you?"

"Wha – I…" Kotetsu stammered, utterly shocked by Jiraiya's knowing leer. "I don't know what you mean, Jiraiya-sama."

"Oh come now. Konoha is far from blind. We knew about the possibility of a spy for some time before Reiko finally arrived, how do you think we were able to flush her out so quickly?" Jiraiya smirked at Kotetsu's curious expression. "Genma was chosen to lead the operation due to his intimate friendship with yourself, Iruka-sensei and Izumo-san – it was a _wonderful _exercise in manipulation, watching the three of you nudge each other into your own individual strategies. Reminds me of way back when!"

Kotetsu tried not to let his jaw drop, tried not to consider how perfectly the three of them had been played, how perfectly they'd played each other. Genma did know them all too well – Hayate had introduced them after his promotion to the Jounin ranks, and even after their friend's death they had managed to continue their friendships with many of the Jounin crowd. "Yours was a most inspired mind game, Kotetsu-kun. I wonder though, why you think pushing your friends away is a safe thing to do in such turbulent times?"

"With respect, Jiraiya-sama, the situation is private. I was not using my mission to better my personal relationships with my comrades."

Jiraiya sniffed disbelievingly. "You'll find, Kotetsu-kun, that you can't dictate how another person feels. Take it from an old man like me; emotions are stubborn things, and will take whatever opportunity they find to let themselves be known. Don't let them fool you, kid. It's difficult to lie to yourself."

"I fucked up my mission with Reiko." Kotetsu stated, trying not to think of just how bad he'd fucked up with Izumo, trying to keep the bitterness from his voice. "I understand that you don't think my tactics are suitable for a higher level, but please -"

"Oh, on the contrary, Kotetsu-kun," Jiraiya grinned conspiratorially. "You set up a level of trust that allowed Umino-san to manipulate her underestimation. You risked a valued relationship to further the mission – regardless of any ulterior motives on your part. You proved yourself capable of subtle and convincing responses to interrogatory tactics. The Hokage is impressed with your work, Kotetsu-san, as she is with Izumo's endurance and field work."

"What? Jiraiya-sama, why are you telling me this?" Kotetsu was beyond confused, and the Sannin's shifting moods were making him dizzy.

"The Hokage has a mission she would like to offer you, but has asked me to advise you _against _taking it." Jiraiya's face was instantly stern, business-like, carefully controlled and controlling. Kotetsu felt the nervous coil of his gut. "We have seen an opportunity to feed false information to Hidden Stone – Reiko didn't pick up on the bait we provided as much as we'd hoped and we're concerned as to how much information the Stone has managed to gather against us. The better we can control what goes into their strategies, the better we can work to combat them successfully with minimal casualties."

That nervous feeling just got worse. How exactly were they planning on feeding the information? The Chuunin hadn't realised he'd asked the question aloud until Jiraiya's rumbling answer reached his ears. "They would naturally interrogate a Prisoner of War – though with luck, they would adhere to theThird War Peace Treaty and not kill any operative in their custody. We think this would be a risky, but effective method of infiltrating their defences."

"With luck." Kotetsu repeated, seeing a thousand ways the plan could fail, considering it. "Obviously you couldn't send a Jounin, Intelligence or ANBU Operative in because of the risk of the enemy extracting usable information. Any operative lower than a Chuunin would simply have no use to the enemy. I suppose if Reiko managed to get word back to the Stone I would already be known to them, they'd probably underestimate me and if I'm lucky be less than creative in their interrogatory techniques. Along with the anti-interrogation training I had for working in the Hokage's office, that makes me the perfect choice, right?"

"Exactly." Jiraiya grunted, frowning slightly. "We've also sent them a missive declaring war, stating that it was a Chuunin operative that killed Senshi Reiko. A Chuunin prisoner would be a valuable prize to the Stone at the moment. If you should choose to accept the mission we would provide you with intensive interrogatory and torture training to help you cope with anything they may put you through; not to mention a full ANBU escort to ensure your safe arrival to Hidden Stone. Essentially though, you would be entirely alone." Jiraiya gave Kotetsu an odd look, fond and confident. "You don't have to take this mission, shinobi."

No he really didn't _have _to, Kotetsu thought as he tried to hold Jiraiya's gaze, but if he chose not to someone else might be forced; the Chuunin understood all too well that he really did have the best chance of coming out alive. And that was the real question, wasn't it? Could anyone else do a better job? No. It was Kotetsu's duty to live or die for his precious village. It was his right.

"I'd like to accept the mission, Jiraiya-sama." The Chuunin's voice was blessedly strong when it came. "I understand the consequences and expect a damn fat pay cheque when I get home."

"Thank you, Kotetsu-kun. Please report immediately to Morino Ibiki, he'll be training you personally for the next few days." Jiraiya didn't move to dismiss Kotetsu, seemed to consider him carefully before asking; "Is there anything else I can do to make this easier?"

Kotetsu hesitated only briefly, he didn't have many loose ends, but there was one aspect of becoming a POW that Kotetsu could barely stomach. "Could you… If it's possible…don't let Izumo think I'm a coward? I'm not bothered about the others, but…"

Jiraiya nodded curtly, waving a hand to dismiss the Chuunin. "I'll do what I can."

* * *

"_When all seems lost…"_ Iruka's mother had once said, when the third war had begun to reach it's slow climb to absolute horror and his father had stopped being able to sleep at night – too haunted by what he had seen in the dark – "…_feed a child."_

He'd never really understood as a boy, just happily scoffed down the candy she presented, basking in her proud, radiant grin; or just relished that rare treat of a trip to Ichiraku, because while Iruka's father had thought it was unhealthy, Iruka's mother had thought he could do with a bit more meat on his bones – she'd said it was to fight the cold; but it had been summer at the time, and he had never really understood.

Now, Iruka could look on these memories with the understanding of a man who'd learned to treasure them, who had been lucky enough in a village of survivors, to recall enough good memories to deal with the bad. There were _worse things_, in the end; and perspective changed over time and thought; and these, at least, were things Iruka understood very well.

It was hard to think about the good times when you knew your entire life was about to change – that your entire village was _at war_, even if the fighting hadn't really begun on all fronts just yet. And it was hard to teach a child how to deal with a thing they couldn't comprehend, when their parents were panicking and picking at old fears.

_"Shit travels south,"_ Iruka father had once said, and the Chuunin understood _that_ one perfectly, as he recalled the way the children in his class copied their parents' tragic, overwhelming fear, and tried to show they understood the gravity of war with their whispered '_Oh god no'_ and '_What do we do?' _and_ 'we didn't do anything wrong!'_

Naruto wasn't really a child anymore, Iruka thought, but it was so much easier to cope with the world when listening to the blonde disaster slurp down ramen and gossip about his 'Pervert-Sensei.' Apparently, the current news was the scandal of the _Great Love Rivalry_, and Iruka made a mental note to put that one to the Gossip Vine and see what came up.

As he watched Naruto's cheerful exuberance shift to explaining in great detail how he planned to smash the Stone single handed – without even breaking a sweat - Iruka came to the conclusion that his mother had known _exactly_ what she was talking about all along.

* * *

Now that things were starting to heat up, and Shikamaru's intensive training was finally being put to some serious use, it had been a while since all three members of Team 10 had found the opportunity to just spend time with each other, outside of the now brisk and boring training sessions with Saratobi Asuma.

However, gathered in the Yakanama Flower shop as Ino grudgingly worked her shift, Team 10 immediately homed in on the latest gossip amongst the younger crowd.

"Hmm," hummed Shikamaru in his typically excitable fashion. "Lee-san was just speculating. Why would Hatake-san kill his team-mate?"

"Gai-sensei might have!" hissed Ino, waving a large flower in Shikamaru's face. He sneezed once, sniffing disdainfully at the sensation.

Chouji looked momentarily confused, lowering his voice dramatically as the door swung open with a jingle. "Wait, how do you _know_ she's his team-mate?"

"Sakura and her giant forehead have seen pictures of their sensei's team." Ino muttered, distracted by the sudden entrance of a Medical Ninja, dragged forcefully into the shop by a growling Matarashi Anko. Ino rushed over, squealing happily in her mother's favourite sales tactic. For Ino, it was the perfect voice to encourage gossip. "Ahhh, welcome – can I help you with anything at all?"

"No! no, we're just… browsing." Anko's voice was equally cheerful; her face scrunching into a grin so suddenly that it left Ino slightly in awe. "We'll shout if we need anything, ok? Thank you."

Ino grinned and moved back to the till, eyes trained on Anko's transformation back into the Growling Kunoichi of Death. It was inspiring to see the way the medic shook in his boots – despite it being well known how Anko had been injured on her most recent mission.

Ino gestured for her team-mates to 'take position' around the store; a gossip-gathering formation they had perfected over the years. Chouji grabbed a storage box and started to arrange the new blooms near enough to overhear their conversation, while Shikamaru watched the surveillance monitors to see if he could pick anything up from their body language, or facial expressions. Ino simply pottered around the counter, spying on them in a way that might allow them to play right into their hands – the further they strayed from the till, after all, the closer they were to the surveillance camera's watchful lens…

"Look," hissed Anko, looking around warily as the chatter of Asuma's students gradually ceased. The medic, Mitate, began to relax a little as Anko's fierce grip relaxed a little. "You know I'm not one to silence a rumour, but you've been holding onto this for too long – it's getting irritating, you understand?"

Ino shouted back to Shikamaru, some pointless question to simply maintain their cover. She could see Chouji's delicate steps closer to the two conversing shinobi as Shikamaru studied the monitors. He noticed the way Anko kept touching her side, gingerly. He wondered vaguely how she'd been injured, and for a second didn't understand how the Jounin did it – how they maintained such close to normal attitudes when away from the battlefield. Even Asuma sensei got up when he fell; sometimes, Shikamaru didn't really understand why he bothered.

"So this, Mitate-kun, is the last time I am going to explain it to you; Gai's students were wrong, ok? It was pure speculation."

In the back of the store, Shikamaru took careful note of the way the medic's face fell. He looked around conspicuously as he leant closer to Anko, saying something Shikamaru couldn't make out through carefully gritted teeth. Chouji hummed to himself as he inched closer.

"Anko-chan," hissed the medic. "I understand that you want to protect your comrades, but Gai-san's team seemed pretty damn certain."

"Then _you_ understand very little. You said this girl was a medic? Dark hair, to about here?" Anko gestured to her neck, smirking grimly as Mitate nodded. "I'll bet she had stripes as well. One each side of her cheek?"

Chouji leaned closer still, fascinated now with the conversation – how often, after all, did two random shinobi wander in and start talking about the very subject your own team had been obsessed with since first hearing Lee's theory?

"_Believe _me Mitate;" ordered Anko, her voice and tone indicating just how swiftly she was losing patience at her comrade's obliviousness. "I don't know anything about any 'Love Rivalry,' but Rin is the _last_ person Gai or Kakashi would ever have harmed – let alone _kill – _are you nuts?"

"If you say so, Anko-san." Mitate's voice was grudging and unconvinced, but Anko seemed satisfied by his acquiescence.

"Get back to your duties, shinobi-san." She shoved him out of the door, picking up a couple of flowers at random and taking them to the till. Ino served her cheerfully, voice false and accommodating. If anything, Anko returned the gesture.

When the Special Jounin had left, Team 10 shared their information quite happily, trying – unsuccessfully – to fill in the missing pieces between Lee's theory, and Anko's certainty.

Ino couldn't wait to compare notes with Sakura. She was certain the girl would've gotten _nowhere_ with her insane idea to just _ask_ Hatake Kakashi. Thanks to the brilliant initiative of her team Ino now had more information than any of the others. _She_ had found the mystery medic a name!

* * *

A few days later, after his awkward conversation with Kurenai and Kakashi, good as his word, finally managed to subtly corner Gai in the mission room as they lined up for their pay slips

"Kurenai's going cabin crazy." Kakashi tried to explain – yet again – to the green-clad wonder. He'd been lying through his teeth for almost an hour – through several stupid challenges and the relaxing stroll down to the mission room itself – to little avail, and was now aiming for Gai's protective streak. "We'd all feel safer if you didn't travel unaccompanied – it's the same for all of us. It's obvious we're great targets to the Stone…especially now _my_ mission's all but public knowledge here. There's no telling how that might get back…"

"Iruka-sensei said the Devious Spy was working alone!" Gai's voice was obnoxiously loud, but his eyes narrowed knowingly as Kakashi tried not to look away from that piercing glare. "Iruka-sensei said it himself, with Genma-san's confirmation!"

"Yes I know," Kakashi drawled, only slightly petulantly. He couldn't help but notice the curious glances thrown their way – and worry a little despite himself at what Gai saw between Kakashi and Iruka; he hadn't realised Gai held so much respect for the Chuunin, and no one saw through the Copy Nin like Gai did.

"But…?" Gai asked, knowing his rival's tone _far _too well. Kakashi cursed his lack of foresight – of all the places to persuade Gai, he had to go and choose the very epicentre of the Gossip Vine. Some genius!

"But _Ebisu_-san thought he was invincible, and I'm not sure we should condone such misconceptions in the Jounin ranks." Kakashi knew it was a harsh blow – Gai had been closer to Ebisu than he had, admired the man's sense of propriety and stricture – but it was also an effective blow, one that worked a thousand ways in his favour. He ignored his comrade's slight flinch, recognising Gai's lack of drama for true grief. "There are no certainties in _war_, Gai. Consider it a personal favour; I'd rather you didn't take that risk."

"Very well, my friend." Gai's low voice was poised oddly between sobriety and mania. "I will ask the Hokage for Kurenai-chan's accompaniment!"

Kakashi nodded brusquely, closing down the conversation before his reasoning could become his noose – there was a fine line between how much Gai could and couldn't see, and Kakashi had to be careful not to be too subtle or make his intentions too clear. The Green Beast was underestimated far too easily, in Kakashi's opinion. It was probably why he had survived so long.

Gai lowered his voice conspiratorially, his hushed proclamations only inviting more interest than his shouted ones. Kakashi let his eye wander idly across the intrigued faces of his comrades and wished he could just disappear without it drawing even _more_ attention to the conversation. "What does Asuma-san think about his Lady travelling for so long in Such Times!"

"Oh you know what he's like." Kakashi waved a dismissive hand, making his next words seem totally unimportant in the hopes that Gai would take notice of them. "Try to be a little discreet about it all, Hmm? We don't want people to get the wrong idea."

Kakashi wasn't sure what Gai thought the _wrong idea _could be, but the way he blanched and visibly paled made his comment seem almost perverted. Oh wait, Kakashi knew _exactly_ what Gai would think. He allowed himself a triumphant smirk as Gai tried to quell his embarrassment.

"I will be Ultimately Discreet!" Gai screeched, one hand on a hip and his arm outstretched. Kakashi cringed internally, blinking one lazy eye in response to Gai's outburst. "I shall be as Discreet as the Humble -"

"Great! Perfect!" Kakashi drawled, waving one hand automatically in the scout signal for '_proceed silently_' as he mentally calculated how much could be added together correctly and how quickly he could do something sufficiently stupid enough to stem the tide of gossip from Kurenai's life. "Can you do it quietly too?"

"Yo, Kakashi!" Shiranui Genma greeted, chewing maliciously on his senbon. He gestured towards Gai with a smirk. "What's _he _being so discreet about?"

_Oh this was **such **a bad idea! _Kakashi thought as he laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head as he resisted the urge to duck and cover. Beside him, Gai was posing again.

"No! I shall not Fall for your Youthful Persuasion!" Gai's shout was suitably dramatic, and Kakashi just sighed as Genma raised a disbelieving eyebrow. Somewhere in the crowd of bored, curious shinobi, someone snickered. "I am like the Solid Oak! Unmoveable! Unchanging!"

"Yeah, until something bigger, badder and generally cooler comes along. Like a bulldozer. Or several well placed explosive tags." Genma remarked as Kakashi fought the urge to whimper, moving forward slightly in a shuffling slouch that gave nothing away. "Now, if you _really_ wanted to remain unmoved and unchanged you be a weed."

"A Weed?" screeched Gai, affronted and _loud._ Kakashi grinned tightly, giving a casual little wave to some Chuunin sensei as he moved passed them in the crowd, bowing to hide the way he stared curiously at the scene.

"Yeah, you know." Genma chewed thoughtfully. "Like a stinging nettle. Hurts anything that comes near it and you can't get rid of the overgrown little bastards."

Kakashi shuffled forward as the queue move on, leaving Genma and Gai to their botanical debate. Maybe Gai _could_ do discreet after all, Kakashi thought as he saw the oddly victorious little grin on the Green Beast's face. It was merely a much louder discreet than he was used to.

Maybe Kakashi should modernise some of his methods after all. Subtlety was _so_ over-rated.

* * *

After two days of recuperation – including some rather embarrassing surgery to physically untwist his right testicle – Izumo had been let out of the hospital with instruction to rest should he experience too much pain, but otherwise try to go on as close to normal as possible.

This was easier said than done, like many things, and eventually Izumo had found the need to drink something or risk dehydration, which eventually had led to needing to use the toilet. Standing in the mission room's usually deserted public toilets with his trousers round his ankles and experiencing Hell Pain where a man should _never_ have to experience Hell Pain – thanks to painkillers that _never_ seemed to work for the full four hours – Izumo felt about as far from normal as he ever had.

Once, as a kid, Izumo's cousin had 'caught himself' in his flies. If his cousin were still alive Izumo was certain he'd be pointing out in great detail how this injury was _so much worse._

Izumo gripped the porcelain edge of the urinal hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Tears of agony squeezed from his eyes as he forced urine from his poor, abused genitalia. Izumo tried not to look, tried to focus on the ceiling, but the acids in his piss burned uncomfortably against his damaged member, and it was hard to ignore the reason for one's agonising limp.

At least it couldn't get much worse, right?

"You'll show me your dick but not your face?" Izumo was mortified to hear Tsuzumi's usually friendly drawl as the lavatory door swung open, two Chuunin level shinobi walking in just as Izumo was finally _getting somewhere!_ Classes must've let out for the afternoon; a lot of the Chuunin Teachers doubled up shifts in the mission rooms. Iruka had always used to joke that the teachers must be trustworthy if they could go entire days without slaughtering the ninja brats they were forced to baby-sit; until Mizuki had tried just that, and it hadn't seemed quite so funny anymore.

_At least it's not Kotetsu; _Izumo found himself thinking, somewhat hysterically, as he tried to calm his mortified blush. _That bastard would never stop laughing_. Izumo caught sight of the bandaged face of Tobitake Tonbo as the nin replied "I'm not Hatake-san, you know, I'm not _hiding_ anything. You didn't have to follow me to the toilet!"

"Oh come on, you showed Teuchi, and he's got less tact than me. And alright, I admit it, I have zero tact." whined Tsuzumi ineffectually. "Everyone's seen beneath the bandages but me, and it's not like they'll team _us_ up anytime soon!"

"Don't look at my dick and maybe my face won't bother you so much," the Chuunin grinned, obviously loving getting under Tsuzumi's skin.

"It was follow you in here or listen to the rest of Maito-san's ranting – and even a patient teacher like myself can only take so much about plants." The newly appointed academy teacher grumbled pitifully. "I don't care how skilled he is; that guy is just weird."

"I wouldn't let the elite hear you say that." Tonbo's grin widened his bandages scrunching up around his eyes in the strangest way. "I wouldn't let _him_ hear you either, come to that!"

Tsuzumi smiled as he finally noticed the toilet's other occupant, and Izumo suddenly wondered why he had ever thought he'd manage to use a public toilet _and_ keep his dignity intact. "Hey, Izumo-kun! How've the Jounin been working you?"

"Tonbo-san." Izumo grunted, the pained voice causing his old comrades to look over in a devious concern. "Tsuzumi-_sensei_."

The teasing tone didn't come out as light-hearted as Izumo had hoped, but his comrade's eyes sparkled in amusement. On duty Tsuzumi was the perfectly behaved shinobi – but off-duty he was a right bastard. _Kotetsu _had always got on well with the Chuunin, had always found a way to distract or tease the other nin – but Kotetsu wasn't here to do that, and Izumo _had_ to stop relying on his friend to bail him out.

Right at that moment, though, the idea seemed a lot more difficult than it had a few days ago.

Tonbo positioned himself next to Izumo, casually unzipping his trousers in a way that – had Izumo been any less traumatized at that moment – entirely ruined any sense of aloof mystery the bandaged nin might have otherwise possessed. Izumo tried to bite back a whimper, and Tonbo – totally unruffled – craned his neck to look over at Izumo's penis.

"Fuck me that looks painful." He exclaimed in genuine horror – a sound rarely heard in a shinobi compound. If Izumo had been any less mortified he would have considered how the Chuunin could see through the cloth covering his eyes, but he was far too busy trying to hold back a desperate whimper.

Tonbo's mouth pinched slightly into a frown. He lowered his voice to a wary, formal tone. "Congratulations on your promotion, by the way."

"Yeah thanks, man." Izumo's voice was oddly strained as he glared sarcastically at the lower level shinobi, blowing hair from his face. "M'having a fucking _blast_!"

"_Damn_. Better you than me, s'all I can say." Tonbo finished, tucking himself back into his trousers and moving to leave, while Tsuzumi's pitying gaze lingered, for once completely sympathetic, without a trace of mockery.

"If that's the price you pay to be Jounin, you can count me out straight away." Tsuzumi's voice was horribly serious, and Izumo just sighed, trying to shut out the embarrassment of the situation.

"Better this than get my knees capped. That'd keep me off the field for too long." The incredulous look the two gave Izumo as they left the toilet said it all: He'd lost his mind – definitely Jounin material.

* * *

**End of Ch 17!**

I've re-read the ffn Stories Guidelines, and as far as I can tell the guidelines have no opinion about responding to review within the chapter as long as it isn't a separate entry. I've decided to risk continuing to respond to the feedback here in the chapter, because I think it's a fair trade, after all you've taken the time to give me your opinions on my fic! I'm more than happy to abide by ffn's rules, but hopefully even if they do decide to go with the rumours I'll find a way to at least thank you all for your kind responses and criticism to my writing! XD

**Mega Thanks to:**

Hey-Diddle-Diddle: Thank you as ever! Domestic men are just nummy, and ok, so I got a little carried way with the Iruka love. He's just getting more and more fun to write, the little git, so I'm thrilled you liked XD.

Alitta/QoV: Foreshadowing? Nevah! Thanks for your comments about Iruka's awesomeness; I was so worried about it being OTT. Hope all your exams went well! (hugs)

Oboro: Thank you so much! I took a long time trying to figure Iruka out so I'm chuffed to hear you think it's paying off! XD

Rabid: Thanks for the review! Sakura's Mother pwns me – as does Pakkun's Mum, but I doubt she'll be appearing! XD I thought a little about what you said about the pups, and the way I see it a person seems to have to have some natural ability to convert energy to chakra – I might be wrong, but I thought judging by Rock Lee it was more than training alone, thought that's obviously a huge part of it – so I figure it's probably not much different for summons. If the summon is going to do crazy, abnormal, ninja-y things (like the Inuzuka hounds or Kakashi's dogs leaping about on trees and things) then it must have some unique ability that a normal of chakra-less dog wouldn't. Thanks again! XD

Sorviball: Thank you so much! I'm so glad you liked the domestic scene, it was a fun way to get a lot of the explanations in more naturally! Also, thanks for your comments about team 7 – I found them so hard to write at first but your comments have been so helpful throughout, thank you XD

Faith b: Thanks as ever for all your support hun, it means so much :) (tackleglomp)

Killerki: (glomps you) Thanks so much, especially your comments about the Izumo-Kotetsu-Iruka friendship, it's great to know that's getting through well! XD (as for the jumping around, I'll join you, because Izumo is awesome)

Alana Quinn: I really can't thank you enough for all your help with the last few chapters of this fic! Hope yours in coming along well too!

Shi-chan: Thank you again XD

**Thanks to**: Shock, Telosphilos (for all our strange conversations!), Smoking Panda, Azamiko, WinterOfOurDiscontent, Masked Shinobi (thank you so much XD), Tami (Thank you for the support :)), Karaii, Tampoposensei (And thank you for the correction, I'm such a twit! XD), SiriusMoonPuppy, Fuhrer (what you don't know, is that I'm stalking you back ;)), Kakashiidiot, dk-joy, Alesca, Kyra-Rei, XxLilyNGxX, Sna (as always), Goldenrat, Lady Whistledown, Myew-chan, and A Newfound Fan!


	18. 18

**Notes**: I'm so so very sorry that it's taken this long to update – I'm getting worse aren't I? – but there have been a few fairly good reasons why this was on the back burner! Gah. Ah well, Hope you've all had a great couple of months! ;)

Just as a reminder, I'm running on the theory that_, a_ccording to the guidebooks (and leafninjadotcom), the original InoShikaCho lot are _Chouza, Shikaku_, and _Inoichi_. As ever, thank you for your continued support (and patience), and I appreciate any feedback that you want to throw at me XD Extra thanks to Kiki and Alana for proofreading various drafts of this EVIL chapter!

**This chapter is dedicated to WinterOfOurDiscontent! Happy Birthday!**

* * *

July's heat was oppressive, but not exceptionally so. The Leaf village's design and construction offered no real shade from the clear skies and glaring sun in the wide, winding streets. In the central part of the village the air was thick, and sweet with the scents of its citizens' lives. Medicinal herbs mingled with cooking spices, the strong odours almost staining the more overpowering scents of metal cleaning agents and acidic weaponry compounds that lingered around the military compounds and official towers. The fragrances of a hidden village – the fragrances of death – should not have been so inviting, but to a shinobi and his comrades it was home.

Crouched outside the east outer wall of Konoha, several Stone Nin baked outside the kiln of Fire Country's stronghold, unsettled by the tangy scents that wafted over the Leaf's defences.

"All Hidden Villages smell the same, you notice that?" muttered one shinobi, lying on his back and fiddling discreetly with the small thread of chakra grenades stretched across the seven of them. He paused now and then to carefully tug strands of long dark hair from the knotted wire.

"Oh shut-up, Kazu'. It smells of sweat and spices and fucking _pine_." A deeply tanned man kicked lightly at his comrade, hissing in ridicule. "Tell me how that's anything like home?"

"Mmm, spices." A chubbier lookout chuckled from a tree. "I love Fire Country cooking. It's tangy, but never _too_ spicy; not like Wave."

"Wave is delicious!" the first man, Kazuhara, paid no attention to the scoffs of his friends. "My wife's from down that way, you know? She cooks it all authentic-like!"

Down the line, a much younger shinobi was tutting to his superior. "They won't stop _chatting_, Tsuki-san. They'll attract attention."

"What attracts more attention in a ninja village, kid; shinobi chatting while they fiddle with something, or shinobi silently threading explosive wire through chakra grenades?" Tsuki's scarred face grinned wildly at the teenager's furious expression. "They've known each other since they were Gennin. This isn't their first op, you know?"

Tsuki smiled to himself as the conversation at the end of his impromptu assembly line turned to the newest addition to Kazuhara's family. Thoroughly chastised, the younger shinobi kept his disbelieving huffs to a bear minimum. Tsuki could remember being a teenager, new to the Jounin ranks. He could remember being that uptight, and so often now did he wonder how the hell he managed to survive the shit he had.

"…We're thinking of calling her 'Ling-Wai.'" Kazuhara was saying, hushing his team-mates half-heartedly as they exploded into helpless giggles. "Shut up, Hanba-_bastard_, it's a foreign name. My wife's got family from… wherever the hell she's from. I tend to switch off when she gets all cultural on me."

"_Ling-Wai_!" Hanba wheezed, curling up a little in his attempt to let no sound escape his lips. "It'll be _the_ most picked on kid in the playground."

The man in the tree chuckled a little, looking down as his team commander bit down on a grin himself, shushing the protesting boy beside him. "He's right, you know. You'll have to die a hero, Kazu-kun, it's the only way she'll have any respect from her peers!"

"That can be arranged." The youngest said, standing up with a content look of triumph in his eyes. Pulling a kunai from his belt.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing, brat, get down _immediately_." Tsuki's hiss was ignored completely as the kid began to wave at the guard atop the Konoha tower. Tsuki's team froze, none of them quite prepared for this situation. No fucking way was this kid a traitor. Tsuki had trained this one _himself_!

"Oh, damn." Hanba said, pulling a kunai from his belt. "I recognise this jutsu."

Kazu looked frantically back and forth between the kid and his team-mate, his previously expressive face hardening visibly, becoming a soldier. "You don't mean… Oh. Of course." He caught a sight of bright hair on the Konoha guard, recognised the team as he squared up beside his friend. "Yamanaka-san. A pleasure."

The kid grinned at them both, Inoichi's words through a too-young mouth. "_Nice_ detective work, shinobi-san!"

"What are you? Some sort of telepath?" Tsuki asked, circling around his student's captured form and discreetly toeing the explosive threads.

"I've come to wish you a fine morning in Konoha." Inoichi paused, the body of the young Stone shinobi holding a razor sharp Kunai to his own throat. No one made a move. "I'm your _last_ fucking welcoming party."

_Then_, they moved.

* * *

It'd been utter chance that Iruka had decided to walk that particularly way to the Academy on Thursday morning, but – after bumping into Aoba – he was damn glad that he had. Aoba had been working off and on for some time on the ANBU mission desk and in Tsunade's office, and was often privy to certain, often classified information. His standing as a Konoha Jounin – and relatively close friendship with Kotetsu and Izumo through his work with the Hokage – meant that he was designed to gossip, and sometimes the poor man just had to let _rip._

"…but the Stone haven't shown any kind of range, right?" Iruka was saying, the hushed tones of an overworked teacher designed to attract no more attention than a passing pitiful glance. "I mean, they've been sticking to ambushes exclusively, no actual attacks, no variation of pattern…"

"Maybe." Aoba leant against the low wall, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of paper. "Not that you heard this from _me_, you understand – you do understand that right, 'Ruka-kun?" he watched as the Chuunin nodded, shifting the stack of files balanced carefully in his arms. Iruka jerked a little in frustration. Getting gossip from Aoba was like getting iron from its ore. You _knew _it was there, you _knew _how to get it; but it didn't stop it taking fucking _ages_ to have anything to show for your troubles.

"But _Apparently - _" and Aoba made some vague gesture to indicate just how certain his _apparently_ was; " – a couple of the border guards were attacked in force earlier this morning, just before dawn."

"_In force_?" Iruka was a Chuunin, so he didn't _quite_ drop his students' report files in shock. "Holy _shit_, you mean like an attack? At the borders?"

"Like an attack, sure." Aoba said, and Iruka could see the dramatic panic in his eyes. "At the South fucking _Gates_."

It took a moment for the statement to sink in. The fact that, somehow though all that talk of war, Iruka had never really thought that it would hit the village itself. The last one never did, not up until the end. Apparently, the Stone were trying a different tactic this time round. "_Shit._"

"From what I heard – and this constitutes as stuff you've _never heard_, you get me? - " Aoba's eyes were wide and glossy, freaking out at the depth of the knowledge he'd been told to handle, and Iruka wondered how Aoba had _ever_ been entrusted with this kind of information. It was, after all, where he'd heard the first rumours of war, months ago now.

But then, Iruka thought, maybe that was the very reason Aoba _had_ got the job. His penchant for gossiping couldn't have gone unnoticed, and his capability was undeniable – so maybe it was seen as a really simple way to get certain information filtered down the ranks, giving shinobi a chance to prepare themselves for the _actual_ news.

Iruka gave his friend a nod, and waited for the next half sentence of gossip. " – Three ANBU teams were dispatched; from what I could make out – and it wasn't a lot, that Locust is one uptight bastard when it comes to throwing a bone – one to track the attackers, one to clear up the area, and one to reinforce the defences."

"Doesn't sound _too_ bad, at least." Iruka knew, as soon as he'd said it, that he'd end up lying through his teeth.

"We weren't without casualties, Iruka-kun. The ANBU teams were dispatched about 60 seconds after the first explosion, and that's as much as I know."

A chill settled happily in Iruka's gut. When Iruka had woken this morning he'd been oddly alone, sheets cooling but heavily scented still. "You don't seriously think they were trying to invade?"

"I don't know. It's one rumour, but…" Aoba bit at a nail, running it across his teeth. "…If they were, they probably could've. They chose a weak point in the guard, which means _something_ of that Reiko woman's reports must've got back to base."

"Or someone else knows Konoha better than we'd counted on."

"Either way," Aoba conceded, looking around guiltily as he resettled on the wall. "Until the ANBU teams get back in, we literally have nothing to go – oh!"

Iruka hadn't realised how close they were to the ANBU compound until four particularly beat-up looking operatives trundled past, slowing to an awkward halt when they noticed the two gossiping shinobi. Iruka automatically searched for a shock of silver above a red-streaked Hound mask, but couldn't see anyone he recognised.

"You know, officially, we're supposed to stay out of sight," one ANBU said, short, honey-brown strands of hair flopping over the front of a vaguely bear-like mask. "But we're a little tired and new an' all, so..."

Iruka had no idea what to say, the sheer presence of more than one ANBU at a time was…overwhelming. Aoba, who Iruka knew manned the desks now and then, was a little more at ease with so many at once.

"Sorry, I've no idea what you mean." The Special Jounin said, his conspiratorial wink somehow taking in the group of ANBU operatives _and_ Iruka's silent form. "Me and the sensei, here, have been chatting for a while, but this road's relatively quiet besides a few kids here and there. Right, Iruka-sensei?"

"Oh yeah. Either way I'm oblivious half the time, walking up and down here." Iruka shifted his report files again, holding them against his chest. "I can't see over this stack for a start!"

"Alright. Thanks!" The Anbu said, and then vanished with the rest of his team.

"I'm gonna be late to meet the kids…Thursday's are always a bit, you know. Hectic." Iruka said, pretending to glance at his watch as he surreptitiously took in the almost fevered expression on Aoba's face.

"Yeah," muttered the Jounin, glancing with a grin at the spot the ANBU had so recently vacated. "I'll catch you later then, Iruka-kun. I need a little overtime; I think I'll go see what deskwork's available…"

* * *

Guard duty was probably the easiest job in a shinobi's career, Shikaku thought, as he lazed in the sun by the tower, listening to Inoichi's idle chatter as Chouza showed Shikamaru the ropes. It was fun though, with the right company, and Shikaku had more than the right company.

Officially, it was only Inoichi on guard duty that morning; the South Gates of the village – surrounded as they were by the harshest forest, and enclosed by the most highly vigilant town in Fire Country (retirement paradise for the elderly nin) – were never heavily guarded.

Inoichi, however, when not on a mission, went completely stir crazy without someone to talk at, and it wasn't uncommon for one or the other of his team-mates to accompany him to the towers. Of course, Konoha's officials didn't say a word, because who was going to complain about having two ninja present, and only having to pay one?

Of course, it was more like three for the price of one _Thursday _morning; Shikaku, for some stupid, multi-layered reason that only his son seemed to get, had been asked to teach Shikamaru the intricacies of guard duty. When his entire lesson had culminated to Shikaku pointing south and saying "_be vigilant,_" Chouza had called him good-for-nothing, and proceeded to teach Shikamaru himself, in a far more comprehensive and detailed manner. Shikamaru, having grown up with that sort of banter between his team's fathers, found somehow that he had missed it terribly, and listened happily, even when Chouza ran out of things to say and started repeating much of what the young strategist had learned at Gennin Level.

"Oh come _on_, Chouza-kun!" Inoichi laughed, patting his friend on the back and delighting in the solid _slap _of flesh. "He's a _Chuunin_. He _knows_ how to tie a – huh."

"Inoichi?" Shikaku asked, putting a hand on Shikamaru's shoulder and drawing him back a little. "Oh, shit. What _are_ they doing?"

"One of us should _definitely_ go and find out." Chouza muttered, and Shikamaru wondered what he meant until suddenly his father was laying Inoichi's empty body onto the floor behind the walled parapet, a sight so familiar to his own team that he had a rush of déjà vu.

A thought that had been niggling at him – the thought that all this ANBU and strategy work was leading him on a path too separate to his team-mates – was suddenly soothed. _This_ formation was a natural one, an eternal one, and Shikamaru had no fear of it ever being broken.

He finally caught sight of the line of enemy shinobi; while there were only a few of them _there_, there were far too many for just one team. If he had to guess, Shikamaru would say they were the scouting party, or a primary assault group, and he'd bet that there were more than Konoha would bet on hiding in the thick trees.

"Chouza, call for backup." Shikaku said, eyeing the exchange outside their walls. The youngest one stood up, suddenly, pulling out a kunai, and Shikaku knew from his friend's stance that things were about to heat up. Chouza knew it too.

"No way; from the looks of things you might need back up before I can get it back to you."

"Shikamaru." His father slid into stance, eyeing the cloud coverage and calculating the distance. Not enough by half. "Go."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Shikamaru asked, echoing Chouza's statement. He sighed at the grim look of concentration on his father's face. "Fine, I'll go get back up."

"Hurry." Shikaku said, watching the youngest of the Stone Nin slump horribly as Inoichi gasped back into consciousness, momentarily disoriented but still clambering to his feet, shouting a warning that had the four of them reeling…

x

When he saw the Stone Nin hurl the explosives towards them, Shikaku pitched himself over the barriers, running parallel with Inoichi towards the origin of the attack as he half-watched Chouza expand his body ten times it's normal size at _least_, wrapping large arms tightly around his friend's son, trying desperately to block the brunt of the Stone's assault from Shikamaru's young form.

As a string of high power explosives made contact with their friend, it was only the sight of one of those _bastard_ Stone Nin in the trees ahead of them that stopped Shikaku from falling to his knees. _Pieces_ of Chouza – fucking _pieces_ of him – rained down on them like ash, and Shikaku heard Inoichi's snarl of frustration – could imagine those eyes glazing as his advanced body-mind-switch caused the enemy ninja to twist horribly, stabbing themselves suddenly in the face or the friend, at the whim of the blonde man in front of them.

Shikaku made hands seals as he ran, allowing his shadow to branch in as many directions as possible, the shade of the trees giving his shadow manipulation all the extra power it needed to capture as many of those murderous fucks as it could. Several gasps and squeals of surprise were heard as Shikaku choked the life out of he didn't _know _how many – they were all enemies, they had all strung together the very weapon that sent Chouza – _Chouza_, for the love of _fuck_ – floating down from the sky above.

Inoichi was pushing his body up and forward - glancing around furiously for someone else's body to steal - and Shikaku couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears that streaked his friend's face.

"Shikaku-san, please stop." The voice was soft, feminine, but the easy command sent chills down Shikaku's spine. He turned, aware that at least two enemies now had their backs to him, and faced the ANBU operative, smirking as he realised just how much backup Shikamaru had managed to round up.

One team of four immediately sped into the forest (and Shikaku could hear dogs, even if he couldn't see them, and wondered if it were Inuzuka or Hatake that had rejoined those elite dark troops) no doubt to dispose of the enemy in that horrific, organised way the ANBU had. Another team was clearing the area of bodies – he and Inoichi had got a fair few between them, and it would certainly go towards their reputations, if nothing else.

The third team, as this girl was telling him now – stern, soothing tones washing over him like genjutsu – were here to make sure they got back safely, needed in the village, grief understandable, but Shikaku was numb, now, had stopped listening to the mindless chatter and was just… letting himself be led.

"Dad?" Shikaku put his hand on Shikamaru's head, unable, for the moment, to do a whole lot more. There'd been a time, when he'd been younger, that he could switch off in a battle; go from fighting to grieving to eating his wife's cooking without a problem at all. But now, his son was shaking, covered in his best friend's blood, and it was all Shikaku could do not to break down there and then.

Looks like they were going to have to tell the old crowd to prepare a little better this time round. War wasn't coming; War was on their fucking doorstep.

* * *

Raidou walked into his apartment to find Genma, in full ANBU uniform, crouching on the top of the counter in their little kitchenette. Below him – and apparently the foul creature he was so valiantly trying to avoid – a scruffy little mutt yipped and bounced up affectionately, obviously craving fuss.

"Genma?" Raidou knew his lover well enough by now to approach _very_ carefully. If he was hiding from a puppy, he'd either lost his mind entirely or the dog was not what it seemed. "Genma, why are you on the counter?"

"I would have _thought_," Genma's voice was full of disdain, and Raidou was a little impressed at how, even in a situation like this, the younger Jounin could pull off 'righteous indignation' so very well. "That much was obvious."

Raidou took in the scene, tried not to laugh but couldn't quite hide the amusement from his voice. "You're _failing_ at hiding from a dog."

"_It's not just a dog!_" Genma hissed, uncurling a little to lean over the side, barely avoiding braining himself on a cupboard as he leapt back from the dog's sudden affectionate jump. "It's one of Kakashi's. It's a _menace._"

"To what?"

"_To me!_" Genma whined, "He won't leave me alone, and I can't figure out why _not_!"

"Who, Kakashi?" Raidou was getting more and more confused, settling at the small table and beckoning the dog onto his lap. It was a lot heavier than he'd expected, and Raidou figured this was going to end up one of those giant things so many of Konoha's dog handlers seemed to favour as pets. "What did you do to him?"

"No, Sushi! The bastard dog! I didn't do anything but it won't stop attacking me and chewing me and sitting on my head and pissing on my ankles and will you _put the bloody thing down_!"

"So it can attack you again?" Raidou mused, scratching the dog's nape and chuckling as it flopped, tongue lolling, against Raidou's torso, bony little paws digging into his lap. "This thing _does_ look like a monster after all! Isn't that right, pup!"

"Oh shut up!" Genma said, leading Raidou to burst into choking giggles, curling protectively around Sushi as the younger Jounin gathered the courage to leave the side, wandering into the bedroom to change. Raidou shuffled off the chair, urging Sushi to the floor where he immediately ran into the bedroom.

Raidou tried not to laugh – really, he did – as he heard Genma's frustrated screech travel through the apartment. Seconds later, Genma erupted from the room, hopping into his trousers – one leg on, and one firmly gripped between Sushi's teeth.

"Get _off,_ you little _shit_!" he growled, yanking the trouser leg from Sushi's snarling grip. The dog yelped pathetically, running headfirst into the door where he vanished in a pop and a puff of smoke, and Raidou wondered how a thirty year old ninja as utterly capable and graceful as Genma, could be reduced to a stroppy teenager over a single annoying mutt.

"Hungry?" Raidou asked mildly, biting his lip in amusement as he fiddled around the kitchen, gathering pots, pans and the rest of it. Genma growled in the affirmative as he dropped himself down in a chair.

"Kakashi's gonna kill me," he mumbled, so grumpy and pained that Raidou found himself laughing again, ruffling the younger man's hair on the way to the fridge and receiving a slap on the way back. Raidou made dinner as Genma sulked, and wondered how much more normal their lives could get.

* * *

Kakashi leant against the wall of the mission room, balancing on one leg as he used the other knee as a desk, finishing some half-arsed report that he doubted anyone would actually read. Ah, the exciting life of a ninja, Kakashi thought, three hour missions every now and then and sod all else to do until the enemy attacked. He didn't even have Gai to make fun of; the Green Clad Wonder was four days into his excursion to Hidden Sand, and he and Kurenai – should all go well – weren't expected back for at least another five days.

Kakashi wasn't sure of the details of the trip, but then he hated ambassadorial work, hadn't done any since he was fifteen; not since that trip to the Hidden Mist that had ended up with barely concealed threats to the Leaf and a coup d'etat several months later. Kakashi knew that he hadn't been in any way a cause of the incident, but he always mentioned it when the elders suggested he represent the Leaf, just on the off chance they'd reconsider.

"Yo, Kakashi?" The Copy Nin breathed in his companion's gift of second hand smoke, wondering how the hell Asuma could run as fast and as far as he did with that shit constantly congealing in his lungs. "Can I ask a favour?"

"Hold on a sec..." Kakashi muttered as he scribbled something almost illegible in the margin of his report, annotating the drawing there as best he could with his limited artistic ability. His last mission had been short and simple, reconnaissance more than anything else, but it _had _been most interesting. He'd found out a lot about bees. He finally closed his report, filling in the official details: name, rank, ID number, mission code, date completed, and then looked up at his friend, Asuma's rough face concerned and a little bewildered. "What is it?"

"You still know this place well, right? All the tower's little secrets?" Asuma's voice was hesitant, and Kakashi gave him a wary look. "I want to know about Kurenai's latest mission. She said she was accompanying Gai but… I'm a shinobi, Kakashi, not an idiot. I've been sleeping with the woman long enough to know when she's faking something."

Kakashi eyed Asuma, not quite sure whether that was a joke or not. Either way, he _had_ warned Kurenai that he wouldn't lie for her. "She's accompanying Gai at my request, if that helps. There're a couple of reasons, and it doesn't look good after Ebisu if the Jounin look like they're taking outside threats lightly."

Asuma was silent for a long minute, judging Kakashi's cool response his comfortable slouch. "That's what she said," The Jounin narrowed his eyes. "You know, when she was lying."

"It's one of the reasons, Asuma, you have my word." Kakashi moved towards the desk queue. This'd teach him to turn up on time; not only was there a _queue_ but now Asuma was asking stupid questions. "What Kurenai _told _you is none of my business."

"Why did _she_ go to Wind Country, Kakashi? She could've helped with deciphering the genjutsu traps on that Stone weapon, right?" Asuma put out his cigarette on a kunai as one of the Chuunin staff shot him a dirty look. "I've heard that Gai had to argue with a lot of people to get her on that trip. It's not like him to be so picky. Tell me why she went. The truth."

"I told her I wouldn't lie to you, Asuma-kun, but believe me when I say you do _not_ want to hear this from me." Kakashi shuffled a couple of steps. Why couldn't Asuma just get the message? Why hadn't Kurenai _told_ him in detail? Kakashi was getting the horrible feeling that he'd been played – and as innocent and heartfelt as he knew Kurenai's dilemma was – he really didn't like being the messenger.

"Tell me." Saratobi Asuma came from a long illustrious line of nobility turned shinobi, the Saratobi had been heroes in the founding of Konoha, trusted allies of the Shodai and Nidaime Hokages – but for all the man's fine lineage… he still growled like an Inuzuka.

"Kurenai had something she needed to take care of away from prying eyes." Kakashi admitted, voice low enough to be secretive but not enough to seem ashamed. "I suggested a very reputable clinic in Wind Country that specialises in _sensitive_ feminine matters."

Asuma froze for a long moment, the words and Kakashi's subtle actions – he held a hand to his abdomen as he spoke, patting slightly to draw his friend's gaze – stringing quickly together in his mind. "You…"

No-one in the room noticed Asuma move until Kakashi's body slammed audibly against the wall of the building, and he glared silently down at Asuma as the larger man held the Copy Nin to the wall by his throat. Kakashi's feet didn't quite touch the floor as Asuma applied pressure, but to the shock of the room, Kakashi didn't make a move to retaliate.

"_You son of a bitch_!" The pressure increased, and Kakashi clutched at Asuma's wrists as the other man growled, trying to keep the weight of his body centred in his back rather than his neck. Behind the hand-in desks, the Chuunin scrabbled to inform the guards, many of the shinobi in the room simply didn't move, so utterly shocked at the actions of two of their _best_ shinobi.

"Technic'lly…" Kakashi rasped, digging nails into Asuma's flesh as he tried to shrink into the wall, tried to fight every instinct honed in twenty years of ninja life and remain placid under this attack. _Must not kick my team-mate in the nuts. Must not kick my team-mate in the nuts._ The mantra ran through Kakashi's head as he hung from the wall.

"_Whoa_, man – Asuma – _Calm_." Suddenly, Raidou and Genma were there, one at each of Asuma's arm, coaxing him back from strangling Kakashi. Genma, oddly enough, took the soothing approach, crooning slightly as his firm grip on Asuma's arm belied his voice. "Calm down."

Raidou, on the other arm, was fuming. "What the _fuck_ are you _doing_! Let go. Right fucking _now_, Asuma, drop him!"

"My entire fucking team, huh?" Asuma snarled, ignoring the world around him. "My _entire fucking team_ is in on this shit?"

"Drop him, Asuma." Raidou commanded again, something in his voice more stern than Asuma had ever heard it. "Now."

Flanked by two Jounin and, somewhere in his mind, _knowing_ that Kakashi would only stay this docile for so long before his survival instincts kicked in – and kicked Asuma into next week, no doubt – Asuma turned frustrated from the wall, dropping the Copy Nin. He turned back savagely, pinning Kakashi by the shoulders this time, before snarling in his face. "And I bet you think you're playing the fucking _hero_, too."

"Asuma!" Genma warned, making signals behind his back at the gathered shinobi, taking unofficial command of a unit prepared to step in if this all got any nastier.

"Not your _team, _Asuma-kun." Kakashi's voice was raspy, but he seemed as unaffected by the world as ever; unaffected by the snarling, growling ninja before him. "Gai was just along for the ride, hasn't a clue. You could say we're using him, if you insist on making a villain for this pantomime."

"What the hell kind of right do you have? Telling _my_ girl where to go?" Kakashi offered no explanations, aware of how little Asuma was hearing. He hadjust_ known _something like this was going to happen; Kakashi resisted the urge to just disappear, knowing that would only stoke the fires of Asuma's rage. He'd _told_ Kurenai to talk to the other man, but no. _Everyone thinks they know best_. "You're a fucking murderer!"

"Hey! That is all kinds of too far!" Genma's growl match Asuma's own, some underlying threat taking over the calm persona he'd been trying to keep up. Shinobi dealt with death. They were paid assassins, cultivated killers. But 'murder' was not a word shinobi used. _Murder _was something people did for selfish reasons, for spite or vengeance or some gross perversion. _Murder_ made what ninja did crude, vulgar. _Murder_ was a dirty word.

"You don't think she had her reasons? You don't think she can make her own decisions?" Kakashi's voice was calm, but Raidou could see his feet sliding subtly into stance, bettering his balance for some kind of movement. Knowing Kakashi, it'd probably be debilitating. "I might as well have handed her a fucking coat-hanger she was so intent on this. You have preferred to take that risk?"

"Wait, wha – _your _girl? -" Raidou grasped Asuma's shoulder again, pushing himself a little more between the two elites. "Kurenai's pregnant?"

Asuma growled again, slamming his palm into Kakashi's shoulder, trying to ignore the sense he was making, for once. "Well she _was_, until _this_ piece of shit - "

"Oh for fuck's sake." Kakashi breathed, watching with exasperation and utter fatigue as the mission room erupted into shocked whispers.

Finally, thankfully, the Godaime herself entered the room, casting surprised eyes at the scene and picking up Kakashi's spilled report before actually addressing the gathered shinobi. She turned to Asuma, flexing a fist with anticipation as she watched Kakashi fail to avoid rubbing his throat. "Shinobi, stand down."

Asuma did, and the four of them – Genma and Raidou positioning themselves between their friends, just in case – faced the Hokage. Tsunade's brow creased as she took them in, how tense they all were, and wondered a little how it was that Asuma wasn't curled up in agony on the mission room floor right now. Between them, Kakashi, Raidou and Genma could cause quite a bit of damage even to the most skilled opponent.

"What in hell happened here?" Tsunade asked lightly, and as the queue started to reform in a slow, eavesdropping manner, four Jounin experienced the most humiliating public debriefing of their careers.

* * *

Four days into their mission, approaching the desert borders of Hidden Sand, Kurenai was more anxious than she'd ever been in her life.

She'd been desperate since they'd left Konoha, spent the journey in a tense sort of stillness, deliberating her decision and whether or not she could really, honestly go through this all now. Kurenai had never really considered herself the family sort, but now the opportunity was _right there_ could she really pass it up? She could die tomorrow, she could lose Asuma to death, and how would either of them cope without something more than each other to hold onto?

It wasn't about right or wrong – Kurenai was a ninja for anyone's sake, and held no moral qualm about taking life. Sometimes, when she looked at the orphans of Konoha, when she heard stories of the orphans of other villages, she could understand that sometimes, the best gift a woman could give a child, was to not let it go _through_ that. It wasn't about right or wrong, not at all. If it had been, Kurenai had a damn fine argument why she should terminate her pregnancy. Her argument began and ended with the words: Shinobi Warfare.

Kurenai was selfish.

The more she thought about this, really thought about it, the more she could imagine a child, _their _child, with sleek dark hair and a powerful presence. She caught herself hoping it wasn't a girl, in case she found herself with Asuma's genes and a monstrous 'tash. Kurenai wanted it. She had never been the type to set up shop and play house, but it was really _something_, wasn't it? It was something that proved, wholly and utterly, that the two of them could do so much more than maim and kill. That they were _human_, the way Inoichi and Chouza and Shikaku had proved it; the way even Inuzuka Tsume had proved it, though Kurenai had long since lost hope of ever discovering who the father of _that_ litter was - the bet, however, was still running strong.

The more she considered the idea of motherhood, the more she wanted it, and decided that she really, _really_ hated women's prerogative. One day she'd learn to make up her mind.

It was just shitty luck, she thought, as three Missing Nin blocked their paths, that they _would_ be the ones graced with such an ambush.

The fight was quick – the enemy shinobi not skilled enough to cause these two Jounin of Konoha any major problems. Kurenai disabled one quickly with her signature genjutsu, the apparent suicide more than enough to pinpoint one of three genjutsu experts as the opponent of the fallen nin. The beauty, Kurenai thought, of having such a high level of skill in the often 'forgotten' ninja skill, is that while powerful and competitive ninja in many other areas were having to come up with jutsu after jutsu to play their advanced little games, Kurenai was only really interested in the advancements of one or two other shinobi – both of them in apparently allied villages, conveniently enough, so their little rivalry was so much more encouraging than others.

Kurenai dodged and ducked quickly as a second nin tried to move her away from his comrade – perhaps not realising that he was already dead – lashing out with taijutsu she could barely follow, spinning and ducking so that she could barely moved to block.

The nin delivered a mighty kick squarely into Kurenai's abdomen – the brunt of the attack taken by the arm flung instinctively across her midsection. Gai half watched as she grimaced, clutching at the injured spot with an unreadable look, even as he finished up his own opponent and moved on to disable his team-mate's attacker. Seeing Gai take control of the situation allowed Kurenai the space to just let go, and she allowed her body to slump carefully, one hand digging up fistfuls of sand as she knelt on the ground.

Gai found his opponent to be capable, presenting an almost worthy challenge to the skills of Konoha's Noble Green Beast. He understood the movements of Taijutsu, the grace and sport of the technique – he was limber and youthful – but there was very little passion in the fight; Gai more concerned with why Kurenai had not yet risen.

Finishing the fight quickly, Gai barely noted the opponent's death before turning to investigate his team-mate. Kurenai was hunched a little, bracing herself with one arm as the other wrapped itself around her torso. She was shaking as well; mouth set in a terrible grimace and Gai wondered what in the world could cause such a reaction in this strong Kunoichi until – '_oh,'_ thought Gai, catching sight of the tiniest trickle of blood. '_Oh shit.'_

He knelt beside her, touching a large hand to her shoulder with great care. "Kurenai-san…"

"Shut up." She grunted, hunching further through a spasm of pain, instinctively channelling desperate chakra to the damage. "Shut. Up."

Kurenai couldn't think, refused to cry, focusing on the waves of healing chakra that washed through her - aided by Gai's limited knowledge of healing jutsu- and the surreal nature of the situation. Here she was, crouched in the dirt, utterly powerless.

Gai was saying something in his usual expressive manner, but it wasn't getting through. She felt herself lifted, arching awkwardly against the pain the movement brought, and then sped away.

She clawed a hand into her team-mate's spandex covered shoulder, grateful that of all the people she could've been stuck with, she had the one that didn't think to ask questions outside of what could save her. The invincible nature of Maito Gai was, comforting, in a way, as he repeated comforting words of Suna Hospitals, and chakra meditation and '_If I Don't Get There in Record Time'_s …

Kurenai fed more chakra into herself, feeling the basics of theinjury knit itself slowly back together. She would _not _lose her child like this.

This _had _to be her choice.

* * *

They met on the highest tower of Konoha's skyline, two colourless silhouettes against the summer morning blue.

"We need to borrow your students for a while, Brat." Jiraiya said, leaning his back against the low wall of the building's roof. "There's a mission between borders that could use their particular expertise."

Kakashi didn't move from his slouch, toeing the wall slightly as he assessed his superior. "I was under the impression the Godaime was intent on training the three from scratch – at least as far as their teamwork goes." His voice was unconcerned, slightly curious, and the cold tones put the Sannin on edge. "You said they were too volatile to be inflicted on the outside world."

"Well the situation's changed." Jiraiya's stern voice left no room for argument, and he watched Kakashi for a flinch that never came. "I'll be leading the team myself, so you needn't worry about their safety."

"You, Jiraiya?" The Copy Nin kicked gently at a loose bit of brick as he tried for a logical tactic. "Sasuke won't respond well to yet another of the Sannin having such a strong hand in his life; you know he doesn't like you, old man."

"Everyone likes me." Jiraiya exclaimed, gesturing grandly to the village sprawled out below them. "And less of the _Old Man_, you're getting worse than the Princess!"

Kakashi just snorted disbelievingly, following Jiraiya's hand to study the winding streets below them. He could see the Yamanaka Flower shop from this height, could see Inoichi's soft faced wife fiddling with an outdoors display as if her husband and daughter weren't preparing to fight in a war that would probably kill them both. As if her husband's best friend hadn't been blown to tiny little pieces a week before. He wondered sometimes how the world didn't fold in on itself more often, as the words '_They're taking my students again_' ran in circles around his head.

"He'll survive it for a few weeks or less." Jiraiya watched how the Jounin's dark eye lingered on the horizon, scanning professionally until stopping on some detail that escaped the Sannin entirely. He clapped a large paw on Kakashi's shoulder and grinned a little when he gained no response. "Naruto will hold them both in check, I'm sure."

"In my opinion, Jiraiya-sama, they're not ready to work together on anything above a high C rank." Kakashi kept his eyes fixed on the world around him, not seeing Jiraiya's faltering grin. "Not until Sasuke learns to cope effectively with unprecedented stress, and Naruto learns to stop picking at his team-mates' weaknesses. I explained that when I was getting the whole puppy thing approved."

Jiraiya laughed a little despite himself at the masked Jounin's words. The 'risk of unprecedented stress' was the excuse Sandaime had used to try and pull Kakashi from the ANBU after Rin had died. Somehow, though, Kakashi had managed to not only keep his position in the force, but increase his solo mission take quite steadily over the following four years, becoming an almost full time assassin – a level of intensity very rarely allowed within the ANBU structure. Full time guard work with the occasional kamikaze mission was an acceptable career choice. But sane people didn't kill people on a 9-5 basis.

"And how will he learn to cope if he is kept coddled?" For all his years of experience, Jiraiya found himself looking at an impenetrable wall of masks. When his own students had been worried about something, Jiraiya had always just ruffled their hair and taken them all out to eat. He had the feeling that if he tried something like that with Kakashi, he'd probably end up as dog food himself. "Weren't they your words, once?"

"The situation was entirely different." Kakashi's voice was stiff, and the Sannin watched fascinated as he continued to toe at the wall; tiny, crumbling fractures lodging themselves between his bare toes. "I assume I'll be on more intensive ANBU detail while you're away."

"Something like that. The Hokage has a particular request, involving the tanto we recovered from the Stone spy." Jiraiya chewed thoughtfully on a sweet, wondering how best to phrase what Kakashi was probably expecting anyway. What he'd probably been expecting since he _saw_ the damn woman's perfect tanto blade. "Konoha doesn't have many heroes anymore, Kakashi, and the legend of the Sannin can only protect us to a certain point. We're working on heightening the village defences but we _need_ to discourage the Stone from coming into the village proper and we _need_ to do that _now._"

"You want me to whip up a memory or two?"

"Umino Iruka's got the tanto for you, and Kamizuki Izumo and Shizune witnessed the exchange, so it should get on the Gossip Vine pretty quickly. We told the Chuunin present that you requested it yourself, so play along." Jiraiya glanced again at Kakashi's thoughtful expression. "You will report to the Hokage directly, and work alone until your Jounin team reassembles."

"Hmm…that means the good stuff." Kakashi bowed a little before he disappeared, the scent of sulphur lingering only slightly – but the Copy Nin was famous for his ninjutsu use, even among those that didn't attack the shinobi on sight, and Jiraiya was surprised to even sense that smoky odour as the Copy Nin fled.

Tsunade'd better play nice while he was away, Jiraiya thought, mulling over that horrible stillness the Copy Nin was just so good at. Sakumo had been so expressive; his wife had been quiet, but human. Sometimes, Jiraiya missed the old days, but – with the exception of saving Orochimaru's life that time in Grass Country when they were fifteen – the Sannin wouldn't have done all that much different.

Regrets were a weakness in some, a driving force in others. For Jiraiya, they were just another part of life.

* * *

Five weeks since Tsunade's announcement of war, and Ibiki sat with his team in the corner of the Hokage's Strategic office as the Godaime bounced around the centre table, barking random suggestions and orders at the elite strategists gathered about the room. Hatake Kakashi was leaning against the opposite wall, chin raised and eye closed as he shut out the hectic nature of the room, looking for all the world like a hung over version of the inaccessible, arrogant bastard he used to portray. Ibiki couldn't honestly tell whether approaching his friend was a safe thing to do at that moment.

He waited until Tsunade called for a break, sliding through the milling operatives and paper pushers to get to the other side of the room, standing a carefully measured distance from the seemingly inattentive Copy Nin. "Long day?"

It was only 9.30 in the morning, but Ibiki wasn't overly surprised when Kakashi didn't get the joke. The interrogator always tried to keep tabs on the missions of those he considered friends – a habit made incredibly easy by the mission room shifts his Chuunin subordinates often took. The last week's mission call had been curiously absent of Hatake Kakashi – considering both Team 7 _and_ Team Elite were both temporarily disbanded made this less strange than it might have been – but the ANBU Hound had been seen a lot more than Ibiki's ANBU underlings were used to.

Eventually, Kakashi shifted; his voice so rough when it came that Ibiki wondered if he had actually been sleeping through the meeting after all. "Long year, I think."

Ibiki chuckled as he sipped at his coffee, knowing that feeling only too well. "Sit for a minute. You can go back to looking aloof when the meeting resumes."

Kakashi slid to the floor obediently, eyes still closed but somehow sensing the way Ibiki's confused gaze focused on him and offering an explanation. "I really don't have the energy to focus on finding a chair." He paused for a second, considering. "Actually, not overly sure I have the energy to get back up again either…"

Ibiki raised an eyebrow instinctively; slurping meaningfully at his coffee to account for Kakashi's closed eyes. "What time did you get _back_ yesterday?"

Kakashi grinned a little at that, the irony like a poke to his _very_ bruised ribs. He waggled a finger at the other man, his bored tone lecturing and patronising. "No no no, Ibiki-kun! I went out on the _field_ yesterday. Well, the night before last, which is _practically_ yesterday. I got _back _about an hour ago. Had a meeting I couldn't miss, or something."

"You've been actively working on the field for over 24 hours?" Ibiki knelt down beside the Copy Nin, fighting to keep his voice cold and professional. Overworking able Jounin before the larger battles had even _begun_ was a really idiotic move to make. Ibiki was _not_ impressed, but then, there were rumours of chidori, and flashes of white chakra and a couple of long forgotten names starting to whisper their way along the Gossip Vine. Ibiki might not have been impressed, but he couldn't deny he was _damn_ curious.

"Including transit time. Classified strategic setup operation. Unforeseen combat." The clipped report sounded strange, especially when punctuated by a yawn. Ibiki wondered why Kakashi was expected to attend a meeting at this level of fatigue so early on, and what that said about how often he returned from missions in such a state. Ibiki was lucky, in a way, that his job meant he was rarely called for active field combat. "Diversionary and combative tactics took a little time to stabilise, Morino-kun, and that's past the limit of your official knowledge."

"Casualties?" Kakashi worked to the letter of a mission brief – it was part of why he was such a good operative for the ANBU – but the more experienced Jounin were a little more lax with their treatment of the more confidential aspects of a mission than their other comrades were. Ibiki didn't feel too bad about pushing for details while his friend was in such a fatigued state; it meant there was less chance of getting caught in a riddle, and clear details saved lives after all.

"You think it takes me that long to kill something, Ibiki?" The seal of Kakashi's eye crinkled a little in amusement. "Come on, you know me better than that. My team returned four for four."

Ibiki made a mental note to find out how many ANBU teams had been sent. "Clean up?"

"A bunch of corpses in the area kind of give away a trap." Kakashi muttered, stifling another yawn. "I really need to _wake_ _up_."

"Here," Ibiki pressed the rest of his coffee into Kakashi's hand, knowing it wasn't worth the argument of offering to fetch one over for his comrade. Kakashi hummed in contentment as he brought the mug up to his face, opening his eye only briefly to make sure no gaze was on him before taking a long pull of the warm, bitter liquid. Ibiki studied the papers on the central table, curiosity overwhelmed by the knowledge that things are never as interesting as they promise to be. It was probably just a face, anyway. "You're welcome."

* * *

**END OF CH 18! (_finally_)**

**Shameless Pimping: **As it _is_ Winter's birthday, I thought I'd point out the new LIVEJOURNAL community **narutoreviews**. Please check it out, whether you're looking for a beta, a good read, or just the chance to give and receive some good honest criticism. The com is for everyone, every genre and every pairing in Naruto fanfic, so if you'd like to see your favourite fic represented, go and represent it! XD

Sorry again that it took so damn long, but hey. I wanna just post this now, so please forgive the kind of impersonal list of thanks. Your reviews have meant and continue to mean a huge amount to me, and I really can't thank you all enough for your criticism, support and suggestions!

**Huge Thanks to: **Telosphilos, Winter, Alana, Nezuko, Kiki, sna, eloquencelost, shock, Aya-kun Rose, Matsutake (thank you for the spellcheck! XD), Sorviball (hugs), Goldenrat, Smoking Panda, Azumiko, Redex, Alana Hikari-chan (lol), AnkhKhpt (the title's from a song I was listening to… I'm pants at naming things XD), Rabid, QoV/ Alitta (I adore you, you twisted Shakespearian slasher you), shi-chan, Shock (we're just so ambiguous ;)), Hey-Diddle-Diddle, Blue tajiri, Alesca (thank you, and one day I'll finish that Izumo/Kotetsu thing I owe Faith b…one day XD), tampoposensei, aozora23, Tami, Kunoichi008, Nezuko, Oboro, Zenna, MIkazuki, IceDragon3 (thank you for the grammar check, I will get round to proofing myself again one day XD), devinewaterdragon (So much love for your picture! XDDD), BitterEloquence, SugarHighSP, Forst, Faith b (I miss you girl! Hope life's treating you well!), inarae, Elvin Flame, futago akuma-tenshi02, Black Mystick, Marigold Futura, Admantius, TheDragonClawMistress, blue ½, CuriousdreamWeaver, danse, Olivia wood (wow, thank you), GSYH and wolfkun!


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